Color Theorem
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: A color collection dedicated to Fullmetal Alchemist's golden couple, Ed and Winry! Shot 030: Holi - "We're finally a family..."
1. Red

_**Color Theorem  
**__**by. **Poisoned Scarlet_

**Summary: **_He swore he would make her cry tears of happiness. She had no doubt in her mind he would. - _After all, Edward and Winry were as connected as the sun was to the bright, blue sky. **  
Author's Note: **_This collection of colour shots will jump around from anime to manga. I'm more obsessed with the manga than the anime, anyways, since it shows more EdWin hints ;) I got inspiration to create these colour shots from 'Colors of a Bittersweet Love' by Demograph. I really liked her one-shot collection so I decided to make one myself though using a different range of colours. You should read her collection sometime! Oh, there isn't necessarily a POV; some of the one-shots might not even be Ed/Win in content but I'll try to tie them together all the same!  
These one-shots vary in length. Some might be long, some might be short.  
_

**Disclaimer_: _**_I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Hiromu Arakawa does.__

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_**001: Red**_

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It was the colour of recently shed blood; bright, thick, and full of life.

It was the colour of that wretched stone they sought for, so obsessively that they did not even have time to come visit her for one measly day unless it was for a certain Elric's irresponsible actions regarding her beloved automail...

It was the colour of twilight – when the sun was just above the horizon, giving one last swoop of the land, as if securing it was alright, before finally drifting beyond the hills and disappearing from sight and leaving her alone at the window sill, watching the darkness consume all before retiring to bed.

It was a mocking colour.

It mocked her when she woke up in the morning and her eyes locked on the freshly cut carnation's her grandma and her would pick a few days after spring arrived. Pure red, to show her affection to the boy who would never, ever even know she had picked them for him...

It was a colour that made her fingers curl, her mouth drop to a sad frown, and her eyes dull instantly as memories she wished she'd forget plagued her every thought if she wasn't careful.

It was a colour that had so many meanings tied into one word... so many even she couldn't name all of them.

But at the same time, it reminded her of someone who made that red organ that sustained her life beat tremendously.

It reminded her of how her cheeks would flare up, her eyes would soften, and her lips would form a tiny, pleasant, smile whenever her thoughts strayed _that way _and she would end up slapping her cheeks in the mirror and vehemently telling herself to knock it off; she shouldn't be feeling this.

It reminded her of his mischievous, strangely coloured, eyes; stained with knowledge no man should know, weighed with a mission so heavy it made his golden orbs deep with age.

It reminded her of his determination, his unwavering perseverance to find that deathly Philosopher's Stone to bring his brother's body back.

It reminded her mostly of the draping coat he wore over his usual jacket, which, she supposed, tied in with all his persona; his passionate personality, the blazing emotion in those eyes...

The strange insignia she never bothered to ask, not because she wasn't curious, but because she was embarrassed to ask such a ridiculously sounding question, was something that reminded her of him whenever the day was lazy and she had very little work to do... but it didn't take her long before curiosity got the best of her and she looked it up in a book.

But most of all, it reminded her of _that night. _

When Alphonse had burst through the door panic-stricken, pleading for Aunt Pinako to help him. To help him because he was _dying_ right before her very eyes.

_Him._

Edward Elric.

She remembered vividly; all the horrifying shades that menacing colour took.

Magenta, crimson, dark red, pink....

It was everywhere.

Dripping a puddle on the ground beneath his shaky, frail body; splattered on the young boys strained face, which leaked with incessant tears; dripping down his lip, pouring from the clean cut where his arm and leg used to be...

Winry didn't know when she'd be able to forget that horrific night. She didn't know if she even _wanted _to forget that night, as sick as it sounded.

It was a night that changed everything.

It was the night Edward Elric strayed somewhere even she couldn't follow.


	2. Yellow

___**Color Theorem**_

**Summary**_**: **__He swore he would make her cry tears of happiness. She had no doubt in her mind he would. - _After all, Edward and Winry were as connected as the sun was to the bright, blue sky.  
**Author's Note: **_I wrote this one subsequently to Red and I thought that it turned out pretty good. Pinako and Edward's banter always makes me laugh so I thought I should lighten the mood with it. Hope it worked!_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Winry and Ed would have so much more sexual tension between them._

_

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_**002: _Yellow_**

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_**"Winry, dinner is almost ready!" she could hear her grandmother yell from behind the screen door, "Hurry what you're doing and come get it!"

She smiled slightly but made no motion to move. She laid underneath the scorching summer sun with her limbs stretched out as far as they could go and her eyes closed behind a pair of black shades she had bought in her last visit to Central.

When she opened her eyes, she could just barely see the outline of that giant ball of flames that hovered steadily above. It hurt her eyes to stare at it too long, so she resorted in looking just slightly beside it, when something strange happened.

She saw a speck of gold glint back.

It startled her so much she bolted up and, in her haste, dropped the sunglasses on her lap.

She searched the sky desperately for that glimmer of pure gold she had seen in her dozing. It was so fiery, bright, and shiny; it made her chest constrict rather tightly when she thought of that colour. Perhaps it had been a trick of the light or perhaps it had been her own overactive imagination (_it's happened to her before... lots and lots and lots of times.) _but either way she searched every bit of sky she could get her own blue eyes on for that sparkle.

It had been nearly 4 years since she had seen that colour float so freely in and out of her consciousness.

4 years since she had ever heard of _them_.

4 years since she had seen _them_.

Were they okay? Did he keep his automail well-maintained? Did he need a new one? Had it survived all the countless transmutations he had placed upon it, or so she had heard from the many rumor's that entered the countryside? Had he gotten it checked up with some other mechanic?

As much as that thought elicited a flare of indignation, she knew that Edward couldn't go to and fro from wherever he went during his missions back to Resembool just to run a maintenance or fix a slight glitch in his automail.

She supposed it was that thought that hurt her the most.

They had drifted too far apart... she was terribly scared that if she ever saw them again (_because she was so, so sure she would. She _had_ to.) _they would treat her like a stranger; indifferent and awkward.

She supposed she feared that even more than having Ed check up with another mechanic.

Suddenly, Den, who had been lounging beside her, looked up attentively. He glanced at her before standing up and stretching all his sore muscles and hightailing right out of there.

"Den?" Winry whispered in puzzlement, watching as her beloved pet ran into the house. One last time, Winry glanced at the sky, searching for that glimmer of gold. And once again, all she saw was ever-stretching blue spotted with a lazy cloud here and there.

"Winry!" she heard her grandma call again, only this time she could just barely hear a note of amusement and relief in her tone. Odd. "Come in here, the guests of honor have arrived."

Her heart sped up, her hands got clammy, and her eyes widened at those words.

_(please please please... please please please... let it be them.)_

She dashed across the lawn, ran up those little steps, and broke into the house without a second wasted.

When she reached the front, standing behind her grandmother, and trying to act as if she hadn't just sprinted all the way, she saw _them_ and her heart swelled ten-fold.

"Oi!" a wrenchingly familiar voice called out, grinning widely with gold-specked eyes sparkling madly as he waved.

"Winry!" she heard a younger, more childish, voice call right after his bother. "We're back!"

_You're back, _she thought numbly, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks as the two brothers climbed up the stairs and greeted Pinako as they usually did.

("Edward, I see you've gotten... bigger.")

("Granny Pinako, I see you've gotten even old—OW! DAMN IT! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!")

("Respect your elders, you pipsqueak!")

("WHO YOU CALLIN' PIPSQUEAK, OLD HAG?!")

Winry grinned widely, blinking away her own tears, and enveloping the two brothers into a tight hug, laughing heartily when Ed only harrumphed petulantly and Al giggled with childish glee at the happy reunion.

Her glasses lay forgotten in the intense sun.

She didn't pick them up for a while.


	3. Blue

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary**: _And she swore the tears trailing down her face were from happiness. Really, they were. - _For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense._  
_**Author's Note: **_I'm not very happy with this one but there isn't much I could really do with it. I decided to keep it as it is because chopping it up and adding/subtracting things makes it look like patch-work and that makes me even more unhappy lol._**  
**

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Al would have all the kittens he wanted. _

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**003: _Blue_**

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"Al, hurry up," Ed said irritably, glancing at his pocket watch. "The trains about to leave!"

"Okay!" came his little brother's response as he hurriedly tried to choose between two apples or two oranges for the long train ride home.

Ed sighed but said nothing else as he wondered towards an isolated bench near the train. As people rushed inside the steam-train and said good-bye to their family members, Edward just leaned back in the bench and closed his eyes for a moment; relishing the calm that was rare for him to experience.

After all, he had bigger, more dangerous, things hovering over him than missing one dumb train.

Blue.

That was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes to stare ahead. Swirls and swirls of white intermingled with the bright, peaceful effect from blue sky above him. He couldn't help the nostalgic twinge he got as he stared, trailing his eyes over the different shades of intense blue that nearly blinded him with it's radiance.

Winry.

That was the first thing that came to mind when he decided to mull over this expressive colour. It wasn't that he didn't like the colour blue – he was just more of a red person, really – but everytime he saw something this intense, this brilliant, he couldn't help but to remember his corn-coloured, bright eyed, mechanic he had left back in Resembool along with a few other tragic memories and mementos.

Absently, he touched his automail hand, which lay concealed under a white glove and his black jacket.

His mechanic.

His childhood friend with the bright blue eyes.

A small, fond, smile appeared as he recalled all the times he had come to her when his automail was completely wrecked; how he trembled under her wrath and how he utterly hated the fact that he bought her that wretched _wrench _she constantly used to beat him with.

A chuckled escaped.

He didn't mind that she would take out her frustrations with him whenever he arrived to her home with a falling-apart automail – hell, he very well deserved it. But what he did mind was when he'd see her turn away from him after a couple of long, grueling, hours of adjusting his hand and leg, to wipe away something that glittered unnaturally in the light (_she's not crying... she can't be, no way; that's not the Winry I know...) _and when she'd turn back, she'd smile a completely fake smile that didn't reach her eyes and tell him that this new automail she'd installed was lighter, more flexible, but more resistant than the last.

To be honest, he was certain that she only said that to fill in the empty void between them that he could define as 'awkward silence'.

It kind of annoyed him – how they couldn't be as liberal with their words, and each other, as before. Before all _this _happened; learning alchemy, the failed transmutation, joining the military, searching for the Philosopher's Stone...

Not that he'd ever tell her that.

It was bad enough he made her cry for reasons unknown to him.

His smile slowly diminished and was replaced with a grim line.

Why did he always make her cry? Why did he always feel a pang of _something_ in his chest when she cried? Why did he feel so terrible when her usually vibrant eyes clouded with the telltale signs of sadness?

Why?

Why was it always _him _that made her cry?

Why'd he always have to go fucking up what could easily be fixed with a couple of nice words and a smile?

Oh, right, because he was thick-headed Edward Elric and he didn't like lying very much since it always tended to get him in trouble.

Though that'd be hypocrisy on his part – Edward couldn't count all the times he'd lied, half-lied, or bended the truth to Winry, the Bastard Colonel, Second Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, Major Armstrong, Major Havoc and so many, many more just to keep them out of danger and only to do the exact opposite and put them in even _more _danger.

_(God, I'm stupid. I'm so stupid!)_

Even he admitted to himself once in a while _(sometimes – because it was true. But only sometimes) _that he could be bullheaded and stubborn to the point of hair-pulling frustration.

_("Jeez, Ed, can't you just shut up for once and accept what's gonna' happen?")_

His smile returned.

"No, I guess I can't, Winry," he answered his childhood friend's innocently phrased question.

"Brother?" Al queried quietly, pretending he didn't hear his brother's absent response. "Um, I think the trains going to go without us..."

His eyes snapped open.

Ed jumped to his feet, gawked at the slowly moving train, and dragged Al from the metal cuff of his armored neck, all the while yelling: "Why didn't you tell me earlier?!"

"I'm sorry! You looked like you were in deep-thought so I—"

"Dammit, Al!"

As the two boys hurried to leap onto the balcony of one of the trains many carriages, oblivious to the gasps and points of several bewildered Central citizens, Edward gave the sky one last glance before heading inside.

Even he admitted to himself that while he made Winry cry ever so often, he could also make her smile ever so often, too, and that was enough to ease the tension in his stomach.


	4. Green

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **_And she swore the tears trailing down her face were from happiness. Really, they were. - _For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense.  
**Author's Note: **_This shot is more centered in the point of view of Al than Winry or Edward. It doesn't have much to do with the color green, except for the most obvious green stuff I mention a lot lol. Sorry, but the idea for 'envy' or 'jealousy' belongs to another color - not the most obvious one! I kind of want to surprise you all!_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed would have pigtails._

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**004:_ Green_**

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Edward let himself fall backwards on the lush patch of grass. He breathed in the pure, unpolluted, air; free from the usual smog and greasy smell that Central was so filled with.

He missed this air.

He missed _here. _

"Brother," asked Al beside him, who had sneaked up besides the tree his brother was shaded under, "shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Ed didn't say anything as he watched the sun slowly rise from the hills ahead. The flaming, bright, ball of hydrogen and helium usually made Ed smile, even a tiny bit, knowing that another day meant they were closer to finding the Philosopher's Stone. But this time, at that place, in that house, Ed couldn't feel more numb than he already did.

Maybe he really _should_ have apologized to Winry for coming home so late without warning anybody beforehand...

"Brother?"

"I'm fine, Al," he replied, after a moment. "What are you doing out here?"

Al shuffled uncomfortably. "Well, you know that I... can't really sleep," he admitted difficultly. "And you just walked outside so I decided , well, um, if I'm bothering you I _could_ go back inside—"

"No." Ed said quickly. "It's alright. You could stay. I was just wondering..." He laid back down in the dew-lathered greenery, watching as light slowly began to brighten the area around him, until soon everything became visible and no longer were strange shapes making him paranoid.

It wasn't his fault he was so up-tight; years of having people lurk in the shadows and attack him had made him slightly more attentive to his surroundings – more than normal people should.

Then again, when was he ever normal?

He glanced at his metal arm in thought.

He'd never been normal, even before obtaining his metallic limbs. He'd always been a bit smarter than most people. A bit more keen; a bit more sharp.

A bit more wild when people mentioned his height...

"What were you wondering?" Al asked after awhile.

"My normalcy," Ed replied easily. His eyes flickered to his arm again. "I've never been normal."

"Well, you're not alone, you know," Al said, with a forced laugh. He pounded a fist against his chest, a resounding, hollow, echo meeting the elder brother's ears. "I haven't exactly been normal for a long time, too. I guess I can count as a freak—"

"Don't say that!" Ed shouted, sitting up to glower at his brother's choice of words. "You—you..." he lowered his gaze, "you're not a freak, Al. You're not, so don't ever say that again!"

Alphonse didn't say anything. He just watched the conflicting emotions his older sibling allowed to swing through his golden eyes. Al knew that this must be hard on him; that having an armor for a brother must be a hassle; that carrying that load of guilt and hurt with him wherever he tread must've been exhausting... and that his disability wasn't making it any better. He would bet he was making it _harder_ – a constant reminder of his mistake, _their mistake_.

Al squeezed his hand into a fist. He really was a lia—

"Stop thinking that, you idiot," Ed mumbled, brushing his bangs from his eyes. "You aren't a liability, so stop thinking that this instant."

Al jumped. "I-I wasn't—!"

"Don't lie to your older brother," Ed reprimanded, standing up and dusting off whatever moisture had stuck to his coat. He gave Al a sharp look.

Al made a small noise of derision but complied. If he could smile sheepishly, he would.

"We better head back," Ed commented, seeing that most things were alight and many were already waking to greet the new day, "before Winry and Granny wake up and flip out on us again." He grinned wickedly.

"That's not very nice!" Al admonished. "You know how scared Winry was —"

"Winry? Scared?" Ed snorted. "She was just pissed 'cause she thought I was gonna' ruin her precious automail. Again," he added as an afterthought.

"Brother, you know that's not true! Winry was really scared that something had happened to you yesterday! You didn't come back until eleven at night!"

"So I was gone for some five hours? Big deal." Ed continued carelessly, crossing his arms behind his head and leading the way back to the house where his two next-of-kin lay sleeping. "Like I said before, Winry was just pissed off that she couldn't go tampering around with my arm," he flexed his metal arm, testing out his newly-oiled fingers. "Bet she thought I broke it or something."

Al rolled his eyes. "What were you doing out so late, anyways?"

"I was just checking something,"

Al had no doubt that this 'something' was the charcoal remains of their old home. Al had caught Ed visiting the pitiful remains of the house several times during their stay in Resembool. Briefly, the younger brother wondered what compelled Ed to visit the shadow of their home every time they came for a visit.

It certainly couldn't be the good memories retained there; it was almost too painful to think about them when so much horror overwrote them...

As the two jogged up the steps and entered the house, speaking quietly, they never took notice of the girl at the top of the stairs, holding a wrench tightly in her hands, and watching the two brothers pass by without a single glance.

Ed's head suddenly moved an inch, hardly nothing in her view, but just enough to catch a glimpse of her relieved features and small smile for a split second.

Which was why Al pretended to, again, admire the freshly cut lawn outside the windowsill above the kitchen sink as the dullness in Ed's eyes slowly disappeared with every step.

"Ya' know what, Al?"

"Hmm?"

"I think Winry might've _really _been worried about _me _and not just my stupid mechanical arm," he said loudly, loud enough for his voice to carry through the the hall and to the stairs.

"Hey! Might I remind you that that 'stupid mechanical arm' of yours usually keeps you alive, alchemy geek!" Winry's voice floated from the stairs, where she was quickly advancing towards them.

Al could see his brother's eye twitch. "Who you calling an alchemy geek, you machine geek!"

"Who else but you, Ed?" Winry said sarcastically, finally appearing at the threshold of the arch. Her hair was sticking up at odd angles, her bright eyes still cloudy with sleep and her lip straining to keep a yawn from escaping. "Al certainly isn't as obsessive as you are!"

Ed scoffed.

"Oh, I forgot," Winry said suddenly. "Here!" She reached under the kitchen sink and pulled out a pair of shears, a glint in her eyes. She shoved them into the older Elric's hand, grinning wryly. "Grandma said to go cut the bushes since you weren't here yesterday to do it for her."

"What?!" Ed shouted, outraged. "Is this how you treat all your guests, Winry!? Fan-fucking-horribl—OW!"

Metal met flesh and soon Ed was clutching his head, where a new bump took place.

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, Edward Elric!" Winry barked, tapping her wrench on the counter. "Now get out there and cut those hedges!"

"Yes, ma'am! Sheesh," he grumbled, dragging the shears behind him; glaring petulantly at the wrench held threateningly in her palm. "Al! You coming or not?"

"Wait for me!" Al called, before turning to Winry. "He's really sorry for coming home so late yesterday," Al tried to amend.

"No I'm not!" came Ed's faraway voice.

Winry just smiled, patting Al softly on his armored arm for trying. "It's okay, Al. You don't have to apologize for that big jerk... I know that he has no obligation to stay here if he doesn't want to. He's sixteen – he'd old enough to know his rights and wrongs. I'm fine. Really." She gave him a little push to the back door. "Now, hurry up before Ed throws another fit," she laughed hoarsely.

Al hesitated, before slowly walking out to join his brother, who was testing out the sharp shears wildly on some misshapen bush; no doubt angry from Winry's harsh command.

He pretended not to notice the hurt that still lingered in her sky blue eyes.

Just like he pretended not to notice his brother's troubled, thoughtful, gaze as he began to trim the bush the right way.

He knew they would have to settle this themselves, somehow.


	5. Purple

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **___He swore he would make her cry tears of happiness. She had no doubt in her mind he would. - _After all, Edward and Winry were as connected as the sun was to the bright, blue sky.  
**Author's Note: **_Eh, I haven't really seen FMA: Brotherhood since I've got finals and I haven't been able to watch FMA. I finished the manga though (waiting for updates...)! So, point is some of the next color shots might focus on Ed and Al being in this parallel universe, just keep that in mind :D_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Major Armstrong would have his own reality TV show._

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**005: _Purple_**

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She stroked the brush across the paper, taking in the brilliance the color's glowed with before dipping her brush into the small dollop of paint and repeating the action.

It wasn't anything big.

She was just creating a card – a special card, for a special someone.

She continued to stroke the brush over the makeshift card, delicately bolding out the letters which would spell the recipient's name in the beautiful cursive she had learnt in her short stay in Xing a few summers ago.

She dipped it into blue and repeated the stroke when she noticed something... strange.

It wasn't blue – it was purple.

A very light purple.

But it was enough to pause the temporary artist and stare at the sudden streak of color that interrupted the black and white contrast.

_("How come you like the color red, Ed?")_

_("Cause' red is a badass, tough-guy, color that gets the blood boiling, ya know?")_

Blue and red made purple.

_("Yeah, well, I don't like red – it's too bright.")_

_("So? Wait, don't tell me! Your favourite color is – pink?")_

_("NO! It's blue, you shrimp!")_

_("WHO THE HELL YOU CALLIN' AN ULTRA-SIZED FLEA SHRIMP!?")_

_("I NEVER SAID THAT MUCH, YOU IDIOT!")_

Blue plus red equaled purple.

Winry stared at the card absently as memories bombard her from all sides.

Ed talking about his aspirations, his dreams, his fears, his ambitions.

Ed grinning broadly when he managed to fix the misshapen plate she had overheated to melting point with alchemy.

Ed ruffling her hair when they had gone picnicking for old times' sake.

Ed speaking to his younger brother, Al, and bursting out laughing a few seconds afterwards as they both recalled a funny memory.

Ed's eyes turning a breath-taking, glittering, gold as he laughed.

Ed's lips curving into a smile; something so rare she couldn't help but to memorize exactly how his lips curved crookedly.

Ed this.

Ed that.

Ed. Ed. Ed.

The woman shut her eyes and clutched her head as all of these memories refused to let her _breath_. She clutched the spot where her heart lay, gripping the flimsy cloth above the throbbing organ. She resisted the childish urge to cry as she began to remember the more unpleasant memories she kept.

Ed's blood dripping on the wooden floor as Al burst through the door in his new, armored body.

Ed clutching the sheets as they installed his ports for automail.

Ed's pained and haunted gaze as he recovered.

Ed looking straight at her, stern and straight-faced, the awful truth etched on his face as he turned away.

Ed walking away.

Farther, farther, farther away until all she could see was his stretching shadow before that, too, disappeared altogether.

Winry resisted the urge to give into the sadness she had been withholding for far too long, slamming the brush down and shakily getting to her feet. She needed air; she needed to get out of there.

_("Promise me you'll come back.")_

_("... I promise.")_

She gripped the edge of the table, digging her nails into the thick, aged wood as she tried to settle her wildly beating heart. She blinked away that tears that accumulated in her eyes.

She wouldn't cry – she _couldn't _cry.

She made a promise that she would _only_ cry tears of happiness...

"So, don't cry, Winry," she told herself weakly. "Don't break that promise."

_And she saw him walk away from her one last time, to a place where she could never reach in a million, billion, trillion years._

_That place on the other-side of The Gate._

_Germany, was it?_

_She knew she would probably never see him again._

_She knew he was probably lost forever in that strange, parallel world._

_She knew she wouldn't be able to laugh with him, shout at him, smack him around, tease him, cry with him, smile with him, breath with him._

_He was gone._

_Al was gone._

_Forever._

Winry slumped on her knees and pressed the heel of her palm into her eye, shaking her head against the reflections of past years. She ground her teeth, feeling tears start to stream down her face again. She could feel her lungs constrict on her again; her head pound and her stomach start to ache.

Red and blue made purple.

Their favorite colors intermingled made a completely outrageous color: purple. An alternative of the two.

Alternative.

She wished there was an alternative for them; for Ed and Al.

She wished they would come back.

She didn't think she could take this grief any longer.

_(She needed them back, him back.)_

The twenty-two year old woman crumpled the painted card in her fist and swiped the recyclable plate splashed with paint to the floor. She squeezed the paper in her hand, tearing it to shreds in her palm before pressing it against her chest, letting her tears silently drip off her chin.

Today was Ed's birthday.

"And today I broke our promise," Winry smiled sorrowfully, rubbing away a few stray tears and placing the rips of her card on the floor beside her. The house whistled with the draft coming from the open window. Den was somewhere outside, probably basking in the sun; carefree. And grandma Pinako... she was probably out in town, chatting up some old friends and oblivious to her granddaughter's emotional turmoil.

All is how it should be.

But at the same time, all was so broken and just not right.

_It'd never be right, _she thought miserably. _I'm sick of waiting here for you two to come back. _But what else could she do? Alchemy was a terribly difficult subject to study. She could barely pronounce the chemicals from the Periodic Table without making a fool of herself and she didn't think she could deconstruct ordinary objects to their most basic structure like Ed could...

All she _could_ do is wait.

Winry dipped her forefinger into a smudge of red and blue and rubbed the two colors together using her thumb.

Purple.

Red and Blue made Purple.

"Winry! I'm back!" came her grandmother's voice. She sucked up whatever sorrow remained and rubbed her eyes out rigorously. She grabbed the plate and her torn up card and jogged up to her room, where she placed the shredded card amongst others of the same kind.

"Welcome home!" Winry called back after she cleaned herself up and walked down to greet her grandmother.

Pinako smiled and quickly retold her the conversation she had had with an old friend of hers as she put away the automail bolts she had gone to buy. Winry just pasted up that plastic smile and nodded at appropriate times, staring at the swing that swayed with the wind outside the kitchen window.

All she could do _was_ wait.


	6. Orange

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary:** _And she swore the tears trailing down her face were from happiness. Really, they were._ - For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense.  
**Author's Note: **_I've noticed most of these shots are angsty; I'll try to add some happy ones for the sake of this not becoming too depressing lol. Hope this is enough!_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Colonel Mustang would be able to execute his mini-skirt decree._

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**006: _Orange_**

* * *

Al sees them.

They think they're so sly, so smooth, but Al see's them clearly as he walks down the familiar road path that would lead him to the usual spot. The spot where they would play and laugh and talk by when they were children.

It is dusk and the sky is streaked a lovely dark blue, beginning to fade into a scorching red which inevitably melts into dark orange as the sun slowly gets swallowed up by the darkness that was soon to come. It always happened during this time; when the sky was a beautiful array of colors. An intense pink, a harsh red, a bright orange. He could see the glittering stars pin-prick the sky as he watches his brother stare scrutinizingly at his childhood friend, Winry Rockbell.

Al watches as his brother touches his right arm subconsciously, a small smile brazing his lips.

Ed reaches out, barely gliding his gloved fingertips across her cheek as he watches her sleep cozily against the tree.

She does not react, not a bit, and he seems to relax with this information.

But he still checks his surroundings frantically, as if someone will reprimand him for doing something so uncalled for; so unnecessary.

After all, Ed is always complaining about how doing unnecessary things was a waste of time and energy.

Al just giggles, crouching lower to coo a squirrel that had scuttled down from a tree with a nut clutched in it's cute little paws. Al notices that Winry shifts, almost imperceivably, and her lip twitches just slightly.

That is all it takes for Al to know that the young woman is awake, conscious of the man beside her, struggling with the intensity of his emotions as he runs a hand through his loose bangs.

The great, large trees and hedges around him are enough to offer him enough coverage from his brother's eyes. Al does not worry as he pets the animal, still keen on watching his brother's shy advances on the 'sleeping' girl.

Al wishes Ed would shelve his pride and admit his feelings already – it would make coming here to visit her more pleasant. After all, Al wouldn't need to sigh or shake his head whenever his brother says something offensive towards his childhood crush.

And he could _really_ do without all that tension between them that usually ensued the awkward silences' and funny stuttering or flustered moments whenever they would 'accidentally' touch.

Al watches as his brother sighs and turns away, determined not to let her distract him.

But Al knows it won't last... soon he'll be brushing her cheek again, staring at her again, smiling at nothing again.

And the younger sibling is right as he carries on home with the small creature resting on his shoulder, nibbling on a nut.

Al does not need to look to know that his brother has just scooted a little bit closer to her to brush away a strand of her corn-colored hair from her eyes. Nor does he need to look to see the corner of his lip curl upwards before he notices what he is doing and he scowls at his idiocy.

Ed and Winry are pretty much predictable by now.


	7. Chartreuse

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **_And she swore the tears trailing down her face were from happiness. Really, they were. - _For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense._  
_**Author's Note: **_Doesn't really have anything to do with the color, unless you count the description and the fact the Resembool is like country-land and it's full of beautiful tree's and grass and the wide-open plain. I frankly don't like this shot but I can't really make it any better... I can just hope you guys will like it. Please review! :D_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Black Hayate would ambush Pride by lifting his leg and relieving himself! (kudos to those who read the manga and know where I took this from...)_

* * *

**007:_ Chartreuse_**

* * *

"Sir, are you sure it is alright to be doing this?" Riza whispered, peering through the crack which just barely allowed a visual on their two targets: Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell.

"Of course," Roy nearly purred, the corner of his lip upturned in a devious smirk. "Full Metal will never see it coming..." he snickered evilly, making Riza think that perhaps this had been a very bad idea.

"Sir, please be reason—"

"Shh!" he hushed, pointing fervently at the pair inside. "It's starting!"

Riza rose a brow and peeked through the crack, watching as Winry sat stiffly on the chair and Ed stood against a wall, leg propped up behind him and hands stuffed deeply into his pockets.

"So," Ed started hesitantly, "What's—"

"It's grandma," Winry interrupted, gripping her knee's tightly with her fists. She forced out the next words. "She... She... She wants me to... um..."

"What is it?" Ed asked, standing straight and looking directly into her troubled blue eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I-It's not like that!" Winry blubbered, "I mean, I know what grandma has in mind is completely innocent and she's only looking out for me but – oh, who am I kidding?" She sighed, slumping into the chair, burying her face in her hands to hide her burning face. "She's doing this because she know's my weakness..." _because I'm so obvious, apparently, _she added dryly.

Ed cocked a brow. "Winry, you're not making any sense."

The seventeen year old girl sucked in a deep breath as she fidgeted with her skirt. She inwardly wished that she'd brought her cream khaki's; she felt too exposed like this, which struck her as odd, considering it was just _Ed._

Ed.

The person she loved the most in the whole, wide world.

She felt her face burn brighter with embarrassment at what she was going to ask; at what her grandma would _want _her to ask.

Or, to be quite blunt, what she _threatened _she ask Ed.

"Do you remember the Spring Festival?" Winry asked once she had gotten the reins back on her emotions.

Ed frowned but nodded. "Yeah, it takes place in Resembool every year during spring. I remember you, Al and I would go to the carnival that usually came days before the festival ended... I thought they canceled that years ago."

"Well, they decided to restart the tradition after a few complaints from the people," Winry said, cringing as she thought back to the indignant faces of her neighbors and friends when it had been canceled. One being a budget-shortage. "It's going to start a bit late this year.... next week, actually."

"So, what about it?" Ed asked nonchalantly, honestly not seeing the point in this.

"Well, um... I wanted to—yeah, that's it," she stammered, losing her nerve at the last second.

It was silent, then:

"Winry, you took me out of a potentially dangerous mission involving many citizens and a possible ex-convict out for blood for _this_?" Ed shouted incredulously, glaring daggers at the stunned girl. "I left Al all by himself back there, you know! Gah! Winry!" Ed stomped forward and snatched his coat from the chair's armrest, swinging it over himself and buckling it against his neck. "Fuck. Thanks, Winry, thanks a lot," he said sarcastically, oblivious to the real hurt in the girls eyes.

He had justed reached for the doorknob when she shot her hand out and gripped his wrist tightly.

"What do ya' want—Winry?" Ed's anger dissipated immediately when he caught sight of her vulnerable azure eyes. They reflected things that he had never seen in them before: weariness, sadness, pessimism, and a darkness he could not place but could relate to.

He faced her fully, scrunching his brows together in concern. "Win...?"

"They're dedicating the opening ceremony to my parents," she said, almost inaudibly, "and since I'm their only daughter... they're expecting me to open it in their place."

"Oh, shit, Win." Ed wanted to kick himself – beat himself until he bled with her wrench for his tactless words. Why couldn't he just have held his mouth a little bit longer to ask what was bothering her? Obviously revealing the reopening of the Spring Festival to him had a reason behind it. He was just too impatient, too annoyed with Colonel Bastard's pointless missions, to actually pay attention to the things between the lines.

The things he obviously missed. Badly.

"Grandma requested it personally," she continued quietly, "and she specifically asked for you two to-to come with me. For moral supp—ort," her voice cracked in the end.

"Winry," Ed whispered, placing his metal hand on her shoulder as she struggled to control herself. "Of course Al and I'll go with you. When is it so I can ask Mustang to—"

"I need... I need a date," she mumbled. It was a good thing Ed was paying close attention to her, or he wouldn't have heard the words.

"Well, I'm sure Al wouldn't mind going with you," he said awkwardly. "I bet he'd be thrilled to take you."

"But," Winry took a deep breath, lifting her eyes determinedly into his own insecure ones. "I want you to go with me."

There was a tense silence.

Edward was lost for words – for once. He had no idea what to say, what to do, what do _say_, god dammit! He swallowed thickly, the heat in his cheeks intensifying with every second passed. He was suddenly conscious of this girl in front of him, with her long corn-colored hair and bright, shimmering, blue eyes dressed in a short black mini skirt that made her legs look look long and a shirt much too tight for his tastes.

For once, Edward was conscious that this _woman _in front of him was not simply Winry, the grease monkey from his childhood, but a grown-up, desirable, _single, _woman who was asking _him_, bull-headed, stubborn, short-tempered, and (let's face it) _shorter than normal_ Ed, to be her date.

And Ed had thought nothing could surprise him after all he'd been through...

"I-I," he stammered, suddenly stuff; suddenly scared. His mind had gone blank somewhere after her request and, no matter how much he tried, he could not turn it back on. Not even if a Homunculi were to burst through the wall beside him and threaten to tear his automail out from it's ports.

Winry swallowed whatever hurt had scaled her throat, had sunk it's icy claws into the soft cavern of her heart. She clenched her jaw, clenched her fists, and stepped back promptly. She offered him a tight smile. She slid a wall between him and the boy across from her to keep the acidic pain that scorched her chest at bay.

Her eyes had suddenly gotten cold, dull.

"It's okay, Ed," she said softly, lowering her eyes to stare at his worn and torn boots. "I understand – I'm sorry for disturbing you. I know that you wanted to be with Al since... it seems like a dangerous mission. You should go now - and be careful! Sorry, again, really." She tucked in a strand of her hair behind her ear, noticing how dull and brittle it seemed in her hands.

She faintly wondered what type of girl Ed liked...

There was another pang in her chest that nearly made her legs buckle beneath her.

"Sorry." She pressed her black bag against her side and started to side-step him. "You should hurry and go – Al's probably waiting for you — remember to take care of automail –"

Edward moved to the side, blocking her only exit. She didn't dare look up, up into his beautiful golden eyes that reminded her of the bright ball of flames that hung in the sky, illuminating the fine patch of chartreuse grass that swayed with the gentle rhythm of the wind.

She didn't dare look.

She didn't think she _could. _

"Wait," he said. "I never answered your question."

Winry shut her eyes, battled the conflicting emotions that began to rise within her. The hope, the terror, that struggled for dominance as the seconds stretched like hours.

"Y-yes," he said, slowly.

_Yes, what? _Winry thought nervously, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Yes, I'll be your date to the Spring Festival." The final product exuded the usual amount of arrogance and pride that Ed managed to inject into everything he said.

She couldn't believe it.

Her eyes sprung open, her mouth fell open, and she would swear her heart nearly stuttered and threatened to give out on her. She snapped her head up, staring into those brightly amused eyes that haunted her every dream at night.

"Y-You would?" she squeaked.

"Yeah, why not?" he grinned, widely, but looked up and away from her. Winry could barely catch the red of his cheeks. "When's this festival thing start?"

"Next week," she said, blankly, still in shock. "It starts on Wednesday at five. I have to be there at four for last minute preparations, though."

"Wednesday, huh..." Ed trailed off thoughtfully.

"What? Is it a bad time?" Winry asked, slightly panicky. "Because if it I could always find someone else. You seem more busy than usual this month—"

"No, it's fine," he smirked, which elicited an unwanted blush from the slightly shorter girl. "That Bastard Colonel can't refuse this request! Considering Scar's still loose and he owes you."

"He does?"

Ed shrugged and patted his arm with a grin. "This arm you designed has saved his ass more times than he can count!"

"IT HAS NOT!" came a voice from behind the door, followed by a loud _clonk, _which resulted in the door giving out. Roy Mustang fell forward, holding his sore head gently in his hands, and sending a withering look at his most precious person, Riza Hawkeye, who simply sighed and shook her head.

"Colonel Mustang?" Winry said, shocked to see the stern man so informal. "What are you doing–?"

"The Colonel decided it was a good idea to spy on Major Elric and you, Winry," Riza revealed against her superiors pleading - and slightly betrayed - look. "I believe he wanted 'blackmail material'," she air-quoted dryly.

Ed growled, pointing an accusing finger at the Colonel. "You sly mother fuck—"

"ED!" Winry said loudly, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him away from Roy, who was by now dusting off whatever dust he had acquired from his less-than-graceful fall. The same emotionless mask he always wore around her was back on, much to her dismay.

It wasn't everyday you caught the Colonel off-guard.

"What?!" he hissed, "That bastard tried to—"

"I think I hear Al calling!" Winry said, tuning out his harsh words as she dragged him away from the slightly smug Colonel. "It was nice seeing you again Riza... Colonel Mustang." She smiled, though the effect was lost when she elbowed a grumbling Edward in the stomach to pipe down the boys steadily rising voice.

The pair exited the room, speaking in hushed tones, but Riza just barely caught the words 'you idiot!' and 'that bastard spied on us!' before the door shut and left them engulfed in silence.

"Excellent," Roy said at length. "Lieutenant, clear my schedule for next week – we're going to the Spring Festival!"

Riza felt her brow twitch. "Sir, you have classified documentations you need to look over next week."

"I'll do it later," he waved dismissively, "I absolutely cannot miss this: Full Metal, seized up on stage as Miss Rockbell kisses him," he sent her a viciously victorious smirk. "I cannot wait to witness it – it is tradition, after all. I highly doubt the crowd would let those two run off like nothing. I am well aware that Full Metal and Miss Rockbell are quite the tragic couple..."

Riza gave a small, imperceivable, smile. She remembered _that_. She had been sent on an undercover mission to investigate a series of murders taking place near the outskirts of Resembool. Needless to say, Roy got bored and decided to ask around town to see what he could dig up on Ed and perhaps some of the murder victims—just to keep Riza appeased.

It didn't surprise her that the country-born girl, Winry, got tangled up in the rumors involving the stubborn boy.

After all, Riza was conscious the the young alchemist was very much in love with the woman.

Riza gave the standard salute ("Yes, sir") and left the office, ignoring her superiors dark chuckling and muttering.

Their rivalry was honestly starting to get ridiculous.


	8. Aquamarine

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **_And she swore the tears trailing down her face were from happiness. Really, they were. - _For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense.  
**Author's Note: **_I've always wanted to use Psiren if I ever made a Fullmetal Alchemist story. She's a very.. deceptive character, which I like considering there's a lot of mystery surrounding her. I guess I got my wish. Please review!_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Winry would be the Machine Alchemist._

* * *

**008: _Aquamarine_**

* * *

There was cheering ahead of her, loud and full of life. She paused in her step, eying the thick crowd holding up banners and signs, with some hesitation. She needed to get to the train station soon or else the train would leave her behind, again.

This had been the second time a crowd of this magnitude had held her back in Aquroya. This was also the second time she felt annoyed with it. The city itself was lovely. Bright blue skies; clean, beautiful oceans, and the fresh scent of saltwater and flowers that emanated from every street corner. The temperature was always at a comfortable level and the animals were simply adorable – she had become quite attached to the dolphins that broke through the surface of the water to greet fellow tourists like her.

But after a day in the town crowds like _this _would arise. They'd start out small, with minor chanting and hooting, before growing bigger and bigger and by noon the whole central area was thick with people cheering for a person called "Psiren".

Winry was slightly taken aback by the crowds enthused reactions towards this figure. _Who was he?_ was the first question that popped into her head. It was answered by a fellow bystander, holding a sign that read 'FOR THE PEOPLE!'

"You don't know who _Psiren_ is?!" He had gawked, "She's only the towns greatest thief! She keeps this city afloat everytime she steals something! If it wasn't for her, Aquroya would probably have flooded away!"

_Flooded away? _Winry had thought, curiously, wondering how a local thief could keep a city afloat. Or how stealing helped the people in the first place. Her answer came in the form of one word: tourism. It struck her how many people came to see the spectacular _woman _(she had figured it out eventually) make a dramatic escape and prance around the town as the police feebly chased after her, holding out this time's loot wearing a skimpy harlequin-like outfit that strangely fit her.

She had to stifle a laugh when one of the armed men tripped over her foot trying to capture her.

Winry peered over the crowd of people, amused by the scene just meters ahead: the police force were, once again, trying to persuade the crowd to disband. This only made them cheer louder, harder.

_Geez, _Winry thought with a giggle, _this is such an interesting town! Thank goodness grandma told me to pick up these special plates for automail. _She happily gripped the bag in her hand, pushing through the crowd in order to get to the station. _Now, just a bit— what? _

Winry froze.

The bag – it was gone!

She clenched her fist, unclenched it, and felt panic well in the pit of her stomach.

No, those parts – no!

_Those plates – they're for—! _Winry spun, drowning out the sound of the roaring crowd with her own rapid heartbeat. She searched the swaying bodies urgently, trying to pick out a plain brown bag. And she saw it, held in gloved hands that were quickly disappearing from her sight...

"Wait!" She called. "Wait! Stop! That's my bag – someone – oh, no," Winry jostled through the throng, shoving people out of her way, feeling anger slowly begin to control her.

She couldn't wait to get her hands on the person who dared take those parts! She felt her hand touch her waist, where she always kept her dear wrench clasped tightly, and continued to weave through the dozens of bodies that jostled her left to right, to and fro.

"WAIT! THEIF!" She shouted, dashing and reaching out for her bag, which her fingertips barely brushed. Soon she was directly behind the thief, gripping her shoulder and breathing heavily with the exertion of pushing through the frenzied crowd.

"What's this?" the thief purred, peering over her shoulder lightly. She shrugged off her hand rudely and did not stop walking. "Pest."

"Oh, no you don't," Winry growled under her breath, stepping forward to once again stop the mysterious woman. "Give me my bag back."

"What bag?"

"Give me my bag back," Winry repeated, steely. "I won't ask you again." She kept her hand on her wrench for extra measure.

"I don't have any idea what you are talking about," she said flatly, brushing off her hand. "You've got the wrong person – I only have pastries in here." She lifted the brown bag, bouncing it in-front of her like bait.

Winry could feel the blood rush to her temples, pound in her ears, as she tried to regain control of her raging emotions. The audacity of this woman!

She shoved her back, to the wall directly behind her, and stood in front of her, glaring her down with slit eyes. The woman was beautiful – she had short, luscious, light blond hair and smooth, creamy skin. Her lips were full and rosy and her cheeks had those small, pink stains that gave her the bashful look of a virtuous woman. Her eyes glistened in the scorching sun like jewels, dark and mysterious and promising something unattainable. She was a contradiction in herself - something that many men looked forward to eagerly.

Winry felt a twinge of jealousy surge through her. This woman fit the description that Al had told her a few years ago – when he and Ed had gone to Aquroya for a mission. The emotion grew when she thought back to Ed and how he had blushed heavily when Al had meantioned it once. She did not like the fact that he _blushed _for _this _ill-mannered, bratty, woman...

"Give it back," she said steadily, "I need those pieces for a very important person – it's urgent that I get these to him immediately."

"Don't we all?" she replied airily, fueling Winry's rage. The blond narrowed her eyes and clenched her fist, drawing nearer.

"I won't ask you again."

The woman stared back into her eyes, black meeting blue. The resolve in this young girls eyes made the infamous thief think of the boy she had fought years and years ago. The boy with the gold eyes and hair, determined to find that nearly magical stone which could grant thousands upon thousands of miracles.

"You remind me of someone," the woman said, voice smooth as velvet. "Someone I met long ago – a boy."

Winry felt her stomach plummet.

"His name is Edward Elric," she said easily, almost tactfully. "You must have heard of -"

"I know," Winry cut rudely, clenching her fists to muffle the rage building within. "I know him. These parts of for him and if you don't give them back I'm going to have to force you." She gripped the wrench clasped to her waist, watching her flick her eyes to the metal tool for a moment.

"For him?" she said, surprise mixing with contempt. She smirked. "So, you must be the ever-famous mechanic of his we've all been hearing about. What was your name? Wendy Bell?"

"My name is none of your business. Give back the parts and you won't get hurt." How she wanted to punch this woman's lights out... more for the fact that Ed showed more attraction to her than he ever did to, well, herself! Getting a blush out of Ed was a feat next to impossible and somehow this woman had managed that very thing Winry had been battling to do for nearly four years.

It didn't seem fair, somehow.

"How demanding," the woman smiled. "I can see how he would be interested in someone like you. He needs someone like you – Lord know's that kid bites off more than he can chew."

"What... are you talking about?" Winry asked carefully.

"I offered him a lot of things, Winry," Psiren continued, smiling at the flicker of fury that kindled in her eyes at her words meaning. "It takes a good man to refuse something most men desire for his ambitions. Even though, at that time, he was still a kid with a goal that seemed almost laughable," she finished flatly, tossing the bag into Winry's limp arms.

She barely managed to catch it.

"You're a nice girl," Psiren said, almost tenderly, before adding in a haughty tone: "But he still doesn't know what he's missing. Humph." She waved as she walked away, leaving the girl dumbstruck in her place.

_Wh.. What just happened? _Winry thought blankly, staring at her backside as she sashayed away.

"Don't let him go!" Psiren called, pausing in her steps, looking over her bare shoulder for a second. "Hold onto him and don't let him go. He's worth it," she smiled, softer this time, and disappeared before her very eyes.

"Is he?" she wondered, thoughtfully, watching the woman scale a building expertly and disappear over the edge. "Worth it...?" She clutched the brown bag in her hands, holding it to her chest. Her eyes rose to the flock of pelicans that fluttered across the deep blue sky, which reflected the calm waves below in it's whole. Somehow she knew he was as her chest swelled with affection_. _

A small smile touched her lips. "Yeah, he is."


	9. Rose

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **_And she swore the tears trailing down her face were from happiness. Really, they were. - _For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense._  
_**Author's Note: **_Wow. Major angst-factor. As for what happens to our young heroine, that's up to you to decide. Anyways, I wanted to write something regarding what Ed said, in the manga and in the anime, relating to her hands and how they were not meant to injure but to heal. I wanted to write the consequences of those simple words._

_Oh, due to popular demand, **I will **__**be creating a part II for the Spring Festival**. But please be patient! All these colors go in a certain order, so you might not be able to read the second part to Chartreuse for a while, considering I have half of these colors pre-written and pending. That's why I've been updating so quickly XD_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Roze would dye her bangs purple._

* * *

**009: _Rose_**

* * *

She didn't have _time. _

She needed _time, _she needed it! Just a few more crucial seconds; just a few! That's all she was asking for.

Bullets flew through the air, ricocheting off metal and bodies alike. The noise made her ears ache but she was around it long enough to ignore it, to get used to it. Her hands were slick with blood, warm and sticky, as she tried to stop the profuse bleeding from the soldier lying on the make-shift, dirty, medical table, begging for the agony to end.

"Don't die, don't die, don't die," she breathed over and over again, grabbing little bottles of anesthesia, bandaging the injury the best she could, cursing when the bleeding only intensified and his wails became weak whimpers of "let me die, please, please, please..."

She was too slow...

Someone had drawn the curtains back and, before she could react, pressed a gun to her temple. Cold shock seeped into her stomach, congealing into a frost so icy she nearly fell on her knee's from it's searing touch. Tremors wracked her body, sound was droned by the hysteria that arose in the tent just outside the battlefield.

"THEY'VE INFILTRATED THE MEDICAL UNIT—!"

The ear-splitting sounds of bullets being swallowed by the cries of her patients was enough to make her choke on a sob. The man she had been tending to laid dead, a clean hole in his forehead and neck. Blood gushed out in plentiful amounts, his hand reached for hers in desperation before dropping limply over the edge of the table.

She could feel the splatters of his blood drip down her cheeks in abundance.

She knew this was stupid - _she _was stupid.

She knew she shouldn't have signed that dotted line – she knew she shouldn't have signed away her very soul to the group of people who thought her a pawn; replaceable and worthless.

But she still did it.

Out of grief, out of rage, out of the multitude of emotion she had felt when she had received that fateful package in her mail, she did not know. She did not _want_ to know. All she knew was that she had tore it open, glared down at the words '_...volunteer as a certified medical engineer...' _and '_... enlistment would be appropriate...'_ that seemed to reach out to her, beckon her with the lies wrapped in such tantalizing ways it seemed impossible to turn away.

It seemed like a scrumptious choice at the time, a year ago. Her only relative, Pinako, had passed on. Den, her dear pet, had gone along with her just days after. Ed and Al had disappeared through the Gate three years prior. What else did she have? She was alone. She was depressed. She had no one to talk to during long winter days, no one to keep her company because of the longing she felt in her chest for _him_, overpowering any emotion she might have felt for another.

It wasn't like she was beautiful, anyways.

Her hands, calloused with years of working with automail, were no longer attractive. Eyes, roughed by age and experience at twenty, no longer emitted that innocent sparkle people adored. Body, built tough, trained for handling heavy materials. Mind, wise and knowledgeable, ever-expanding as she read up on the basics of Alchemy from the little book Ed had left behind in his old room in her house. She read on the basis of life itself, to see if she could understand what Ed understood - what kept him so facinated and eager and vigorous and pained...

She had lost the desire to believe in fairy tales and God and all the other, wonderful, mysteries of the world when she finished his own personal notes.

She had lost the desire to believe _they would come back._

The Gate required payment.

To get to the gate, forbidden human transmutation was needed.

To preform it, sacrifices had to be made.

Winry knew Ed and Al wouldn't sacrifice innocent lives to return. They wouldn't sacrifice a limb or two again. They were gone – for good this time.

She had given into that desperation of regaining some meaning in her life that fateful day, grabbed that package and headed to Central without a second thought. She had knocked on Colonel Hawkeye's office and demanded the recruitment papers. She had enlisted as a medic in the Amestris State Military. She had agreed to go into the battlefield, risking her very life, to help.

To heal.

To cure.

"_Your hands... are not for killing people. They're for saving them."_

She supposed she had followed his own inadvertent advice subconsciously, despite the twisted dread that coiled in her stomach when she exited the office; Riza's concerned and sorrowful expression fresh in her mind. Her own strict words warning her of the dangers, warning her it was not a pretty sight, warning her she might lose herself in the bloody battle of dominance.

Amestris and neighboring countries had been on high tension and it had been only a matter of time before someone acted on their hate, expressed a wrong look. Riza had assumed that it would not be long before a war broke out - it would not be long at all, and she had been devastatingly correct.

All it took was a few careless words. A couple of shootings by the borders of Lior... Drachma announcing their stinging animosity by blathering on of this cruelly with sick amusment.

Four months after this incident, Winry had gotten official documentation stating she was to participate in the grueling war that was to begin.

"_You do realize there is no guarantee you will live. If you survive, know that it is on pure luck alone."_

Winry tucked her hands behind her head, standing ram-rod straight and blankly staring at the soldier she had fought tooth and nail to save to no avail. A gun, heavy as a piece of platinum as it lay snugly in her medical coat's pocket, bumped against her thigh with every jerky move as the enemy men beside her discussed in low voices of their next plan. The other paitents cries were suddenly silenced, and Winry felt nothing as the gunshots slowly began to fade into her subconscious.

Another gun _(bigger, better, stronger) _pushed into her gut. There was a rough shove ahead. There was a grunt and a few whispered words to his comrade as she numbly followed to the flaps that would lead to the bloody field which would be riddled with bodies and red with blood and deafening with the cries of the forgotten...

"Move it, girly. Hurry up, now—"

Another onslaught of bullet rang through the tent.

Her ear drums rang from the noise.

Amestris soldier's spilled into the tent like ants swarming a desert.

Her gun.

She could get it! She could use it– she could –

_No..._

There was another shot, closer and louder this time, terrifying in it's significance as it drowned in her own surprised cry.

Deep rose in color, as it puddled in the ground, beautiful and terrifying simultaneously, Winry wondered what would become of her as she felt her body collapse.

Her whole right side ached like nothing else. Her head throbbed and her stomach felt almost numb with pain as she dryheaved from the sudden shock that coursed through her body. Her limbs had seized up, and her hands were instinctively clutching the gaping wound which permeated that dark rose color through her stark white shirt.

The contrast was blinding.

It was everywhere.

Her breathing had become heavy and deep. Her stomach still felt as if someone had tied chicken wire around it and was forcing her to vomit whatever lay inside. Her eyes felt heavy, like lead blocks had been roped on them, yet they were open to their full extent; brimmed with tears of regret and shock. The pain had reached a sickening crescendo – she felt nothing at all as men shouted to and fro around her. She could feel beads of sweat accumulate at the base of her neck. Her hands, clammy and cold; her body stiff with shock, it took everything in her _not_ to yell out his name. _Not _to call for him. _Not _to say what she had been dying to say (_iloveyou. iloveyousomuch) _since he had left.

"_You're hands are not for killing people..."_

It was shocking that all of these symptoms happened in a time span of ten seconds.

"Major Rockbell!" she heard a voice call, an achingly familiar voice.

Colonel Hawkeye.

"GET HER OUT OF HERE! NOW!"

Major General Armstrong.

_Ed, _she thought weakly, a strangled whine ripping her throat when they picked her up messily, charging out of the tent and to safety. _Ed... Ed, where are you? I need you. Ed. Al. Ed... Al.. please, not yet. I need to see you. Al.. Ed... Ed..._

"Ed," she breathed softly, the name lost in the chaos of the world.

"_... They're for saving them."_

The gun in her pocket never seemed heavier.


	10. White

**_Color Theorem_**

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists one and only golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_Milk. Gotta' love it XD_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Hugh's would have his own episode dedicated to his daughter, Elysia. _

* * *

**010: _White_**

* * *

Ed blanched, staring at the—the _abomination _that filled the glass to the brim. He wrinkled his nose and turned his head away, as if the smell of that white substance was enough to deter him from getting any closer.

And it probably was.

"Ed, stop being a child," Winry rolled her eyes, pouring herself a glass of milk. "Milk is actually really good for you."

"Who the hell would want to drink liquid _secreted_ from a _cow_?" Ed asked incredulously.

"Millions of people, Ed," she deadpanned right back, capping the gallon of fresh milk and storing it back in the refrigerator.

"Bunch of lunatics," he mumbled, eying the glass with disdain.

"I thought you wanted to get taller," Winry reminded, annoyed. "Drinking milk would help your bones grow and then you'd finally be taller than Alphonse."

"Hey! His body is a seven foot freakin' vintage armor – it doesn't count!" he protested.

"Yeah, but Al's always been bigger than you," she said slyly.

"He was not! I was totally taller than him!"

"Stop deluding yourself – Al was _so _taller than you. By like an inch or two." She paused. "Or three."

Ed growled. "Winry, shut up."

She only laughed, grabbing her glass. "You know it's true." She took one sip and nearly spit it out when Ed made a face that resembled disgust and pain simultaneously. "Drink your milk, Ed."

"Never."

"Ed..."

He pushed the glass farther away. "I'd rather go through automail surgery again."

"Ugh, Ed, don't make me bring grandma in here to make you," she threatened, rather lightly at that. Ed was lucky she had left her wrench in her room.

Ed smirked. "Ha! What's that miniature old hag gonna' do? Scale my leg or something?" He burst out laughing at the thought.

Winry tapped her fingers on the table, watching him with a predatory gaze. Then, without warning, she pounced, grabbing Ed by the collar and bringing his glass of milk to his lips.

"NOO!" Ed shoved the glass away at the last second, making it tip over and splash over her black tube top, which made Winry squeak with indignation and only force the remaining liquid down Ed's throat. He turned his head left to right, coughing out whatever liquid managed to get inside his mouth. The taste was absolutely disgusting - a bitter mixture of something rancid and decaying.

He felt sick already.

"DRINK IT, DAMN YOU!"

"NEVER!"

"ED!"

"LET ME GO YOU DAMN GREASE MONKEY!"

"DRINK THE DAMN MILK YOU STUPID ALCHEMY FREAK!"

Winry ended up shoving Ed off of his chair, landing them on the floor with her on top and he on the bottom. Winry smirked and shook the glass lightly before him, relishing the utter horror etched on his face.

"Alright, Ed," she huffed, pressing her hand down on his neck to keep him from pulling anything funny. "You're going to drink this milk one way or another. So just give up and take it now before things get nasty."

He narrowed his eyes. "Is that a challenge?"

Winry narrowed her own eyes in return. "Do you want it to be?"

Silence, then:

_CRASH._

"GET BACK HERE ED!"

"HA! AS IF! CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, AUTOMAIL FREAK!"

"ED!!" Winry raced off after Ed, after switching their glasses since Ed had made her spill the majority of his own. He had even shoved her off him hard enough to break a piece of his glass cup as well. She slammed the front door open, growling when she saw Ed running like a madman down the dirt road she always gazed at longingly when they were away.

Gripping the glass and sighing to herself, Winry dashed off in the general direction she saw Ed flee.

Did they always have to go through this whenever they came to visit?

_Yep, _she thought, careful not to spill any milk as she ran through some rough terrain. _I bet the only time he actually drinks milk is when he comes here! And that's 'cause I force I him to! _And she was probably right, considering Al didn't necessarily force him to do anything against his will.

Al was just too nice.

Winry, however, wasn't.

"DAMN YOU ED!" She bellowed. "WHEN I CATCH YOU YOU'RE GONNA' WISH YOU NEVER RAN IN THE FIRT PLACE!"

"Piss off!" came Ed's distant voice.

She felt her brow twitch. "ED!!"

"NO!"

"ED, STOP!"

"NOT UNTIL YOU GET RID OF IT!"

"YOU KNOW I'M NOT!"

"THEN I AIN'T STOPPING!"

Winry blew a lock of her blond hair from her face and slowly began to slow down. Suddenly, an idea dawned to the young girl.

If he wasn't going to drink it..

... then she'd have to improvise.

Winry faintly remembered Paninya teasing her about all the different ways to get Ed to drink his milk when she had told the girl of his phobia. Winryhad also vented to her about all of she and Ed's less-than-stellar arguments about the importance of milk; all, of which, were futile, since Ed just wouldn't budge. The girl brushed away a rather naughty comment the stelthygirl had said about she and Ed's 'heated fights' as she hastened her pace to catch up to the agile boy ahead.

Paninya's ideas weren't as innocent as many believed them to be.

And, somehow, Winry was glad that the woman had given her _this_ particular idea, even if there was a ninety percent chance of it blowing up right in her face.

"ALRIGHT!" She shouted, stopping altogether, panting, and watching Ed, who was a good 40 feet ahead, slow down also. "ALRIGHT, I'LL STOP!"

Quickly, she took a large mouthful from the glass.

Ed turned around and she saw him motion for her to drop the glass.

Winry spilt the remaining milk into the dirt below, feeling somewhat dismayed. Milk was a rather expensive luxury in Resembool – the prices for a simple liter had skyrocketed over the years. It was a good thing that every time Edward came to have his automail either checked or restored, he contributed a lot of money to their small business.

Winry bit down a grin as Ed jogged over to her, triumphant that he had made the ever-unrelenting Winry Rockbell give up.

It just wasn't like her to.

And Ed was just happy she'd acknowledged this was a battle she would never, ever win.

"It's about time you gave up trying to feed me that crap," Ed grinned smugly, walking over to her side. What he didn't notice was the slightly apprehensive, slightly mischievous twinkle in her sky blue eyes.

"Hmm..." She hummed, motioning him to lean down. It was then that Winry noticed that Ed was... taller than her, actually. By a few inches only, but he was already tall enough that he had to crane his neck slightly to speak to her.

Ed didn't notice at all and leaned down to hear what she had to say.

_'Just don't think about it', _Paninya had told her. _'Just do it, Winry, it's so obvious that kid's got the hots for you! He ain't gonna' reject you take advantage of it! Oh, alright, if he does, laugh it off. Tell 'em it was joke. Play it off... but it's not like it's gonna' happen though,'_

_Alright, Paninya, _Winry thought, resisting a swallow, since if she did the milk she was holding in her mouth would go down. _I'll trust you._

Winry grabbed Ed's neck, ignored his look of total perplexity, and smashed her lips against his own.

She felt him seize up immediately but Winry didn't pause, fearing that if she did, she'd only end up embarrassing herself.

She used her hand to grab his jaw and pushed a thumb into the weakest point of the human jaw, forcing him to open his mouth, and bent his head at an angle, allowing the milk to flow into his mouth freely.

Ed never knew what hit him.

"MHMMMM!!" He screamed, it muffled by her lips. "MN! MN! MN!" But Winry didn't relent, she only pressed herself against him, moving her lips rather sloppily against his own so the milk would slide down his throat. She placed her hands on his shoulders – preventing escape when Ed tried to squirm away as he flayed his arms. In the end, he ended up grasping her own arms tightly and for a moment Winry actually thought he had moved his lips against hers, but it must have been her imagination.

She could feel trails of the white wonder begin to stream down her chin and follow down her neck but she knew that most of it had gone down the poor boys throat.

Moving her lips against his own one last time, basking in the sweet softness of his mouth for one last second, she moved away and wiped a hand over her mouth. Her face felt red, hot, as she avoided his gaze and regained control of her whirling emotions.

Ed was staring at her with a mixture of bewilderment, disgust, wonder and something else she couldn't pinpoint.

He cleared his throat, wiping away traces of milk that had dripped down his chin. "That.... was the single most disgusting thing that has ever happened to me."

Winry felt something inside her give a little twinge but she smiled anyway. She should have anticipated this – after all, Edward Elric hated milk with a passion.

"At least I got you to drink your milk, huh?" she grinned.

Ed scowled but said nothing.

Her smile slowly began to disappear. "What's wrong?" She couldn't relieve the stone that had lodged itself in her stomach at his suddenly sober disposition. He should have been angrier, more indignant than this. In fact, he looked very thoughtful as he stood before her, absently rubbing a thumb over his automail arm.

Had this little incident altered their friendship?

Winry hoped not.

"That was dirty," he muttered, looking away. She could see a dark dust of pink sprinkle his cheeks.

"Oh, great, are you mad at me because I _kissed _you?" she asked, incredulous. _Play it off, play it off, _she chanted in her mind.

_Just play it off, Win._

"No!" Ed shouted, then going red at it's implications. "I'm pissed off because you _force _fed-me that god-damned _milk_!" he amended, crossing his arms and deepening his scowl.

"Well, how else were you going to drink it?" she replied lamely. "Ed, you're sixteen and you haven't drunk milk in who-knows-how-long! It's not healthy for a growing teenager to not have at least a cup of milk a week!"

"_Exactly_," Ed stressed. _"Growing_ _teenager_." He pointed to himself for good measure.

She rolled her eyes. "We all know you're not getting any taller."

"How would you know?!" he said hotly, "I'm still growing!"

Winry just laughed, patting Ed's shoulder and walking back to her house. "You'll never learn," she sighed, rather sadly, and beckoned him to follow her. "Come on, let's head back before grandma finds out we left in the first place."

She never noticed the look of mischief on the elder Elric's face as he followed right after her, swiping his thumb across his bottom lip to wipe a droplet of the milk she had dumped into his mouth so unceremoniously. To his surprise, the white abomination had actually been rather sweet, dare he say. Not that bland, rancid, taste he would get whenever he tried it.

As the two friends walked back, talking absently about mindless things and beginning numerous fights along the way, Ed decided that maybe, _maybe_, he really wouldn't mind milk as much if it was administered in _this _particular way.

Hell, maybe milk really wasn't _that _bad.

He faltered and shook his head.

Yeah. Right.

Milk was _still _a disgusting substance that should be banished from the world along with Homunculi, Father, King Bradley, and that one kid who smart assed him about being a stupid, _short, _alchemy junkie once upon a time in Central.

Milk would forever be on Edward Elric's Most Hated list – even if a certain blond mechanic had changed his views on it slightly.


	11. Azure

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense._ A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists one and only golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_Er, I was actually looking up the color Azure and I found out some cool facts. Like Azurite is a mineral used for oil paints. I was going to use that as a prompt but then I discovered that it's very weak and literally falls apart at room temperature so I decided that, instead of tweaking it to fit the story, I'd just go with the Azure Tit. Besides, Al needs some more story time here ;)_

_I'm not sure if in the anime Winry ever left her earrings to Ed but in the manga she did, so just keep that in mind since he hasn't given them back yet._

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Scar would still have his brother._

_

* * *

_

**011: _Azure_**

**_

* * *

_**"Brother! Brother! Wait up!"

Ed paused, tucking a small, thick book into his coats pocket. His old notebook packed full of alchemy notes and equations. It was useless in this alternate world but he still read up on it once in a while, for old times sake. He crammed his hands into his pockets and waited patiently for his brother to catch up, raising a brow when Alphonse pressed his hands on his knee's to catch his breath.

"Good," Al wheezed, taking deep breaths. This new body – or should he say, his _original _body – was still not used to strenuous physical activity. He often found himself in a sour mood because of this – he could barely run a mile while his brother could probably run five continuously. "I caught you in time!"

"What's wrong, Al?" Ed queried.

Al took out a ripped sheet of paper, holding it out in front of himself. "Grocery list," he smiled. "I have to stay behind to take the children to the park so I won't be able to go this time," he said apologetically.

Ed scowled. "You're _still_ going back to that damn daycare center?" At first, Ed found his brother's actions around him suspicious – skirting around him, fidgeting whenever they were in the same room, and being fairly distracted while they discussed future strategies. Ed had discovered, after much thought, that Al had been feeling guilty.

For what? Going nearly every day to play and care for small children between the ages of five and ten in the daycare center a block away.

Ed had decided that, if hanging around snot nosed brats made him happy, they were way better than kittens (mostly because he couldn't take them home...) and let him continue with his "hobby".

"You said you didn't mind," Al frowned.

"I don't," Ed retorted. "It's just disturbing that a seventeen year old enjoys hanging out with brats than going out to, I don't know, hang out with friends? Like normal seventeen year olds do."

Al smiled, but this was a different smile. It was a smile that contained fatigue and dismay. It contained age and knowledge. It mocked Ed with it's twisted humor. Edward wondered if he would ever be able to grow comfortable with this new Al, this Al who had the body of a seventeen year old but the mind of a twenty-five year old.

"You know why I can't," Al said quietly. "We still have to find a way to go back... back _there._"

What he meant was back to Amestris, where the people were kind and nurturing; awe-struck by the science of Alchemy. Back to Central, where the cocky bastard of a colonel and his scary lieutenant Riza Hawkeye commanded the State Military. Back to Resembool, where Granny Pinako would blow rings of smoke into his face... where Winry would tweak with his automail, complaining about his lack-of-care for the thing.

_Winry..._

It never crossed his mind that he would miss her this badly. He wished to see her smile one last time, to have her embrace him whenever he returned from his missions for a maintenance check. He missed her cooking, her lame jokes, her constant prattle on automail advances and new metals. He missed the mindless smiles she'd give him whenever he caught her eye. He missed how she knew exactly how much food to give him, exactly what to add. He missed their banter, their stupid fights about nothing.

He would give anything to be hit on the head with her wrench again.

"Yeah," Ed said slowly, squeezing the paper in his hand. "Go back."

There was a short silence. Al gazed at his sibling with curious eyes and Ed avoided his gaze at all costs – focusing instead in the azure sky of the land called Russia.

Flocks of birds coated it, flapping their wings against the brutal wind that would not desist.

His eye caught one bird in particular, one that stood out from the rest; one that, in a sea of black and white, did not seemed deterred by the rest of the flock despite it's coat color. It was a small bird, very small. He probably wouldn't have caught it in that large group if it wasn't for the fact that it's bright wings stood out.

"Cyanistes caeruleus," Ed whispered, watching as it perched on a branch and puffed out it's feathers against the icy wind. Ed had seen birds like these in pet stores a lot when he wondered around the more busy streets of Russia or Germany. But he'd never seen one outside, all lonesome, like this.

"It's a beautiful bird," Al commented, watching it preen itself with fond eyes. "It'd be nice to own one – they say they're great acrobats," he joked.

"Forget it," Ed said flatly. "I'm up to here with all the damn stray cats and dogs you bring in when I'm not home."

"But broth—"

"Maybe." Ed stared at the passerine bird, who seemed to stare right back at him with curious eyes. "Maybe, when we find a way to go back, we can own one."

Al smiled wryly. "I highly doubt one of these birds exists in Amestris, Brother."

"You're right," he admitted, with a small smile,"but there must be a lookalike somewhere. Perhaps it goes by a different name, but I'm sure it'll look exactly the same."

"Yeah, maybe," Al conceded, albeit doubtfully.

Ed gave the bird one last look before turning back to his brother. "I bet Winry would love one."

Al stared wide-eyed at him, startled. It was a well-known fact to the young Elric that Edward _never_ brought up the endearing mechanic or any other close friend unless truly necessary. It was too painful to think about their life back at Amestris and it was even more excruciating to see all the doubles that existed in this world; all of whom were splitting images from their friends, yet all owning a different set of beliefs, a different set of habits and speech, a different _something_.

Everything nowadays seemed too painful.

"I bet she would," Al answered cautiously. "Winry always liked animals."

Ed chuckled, digging his heel in the light blanket of snow beneath his feet. "Yeah, she did. Remember when she nearly chucked me out of the house when I kicked out Den for eating my steak?"

Al smiled, laughing at the memory. "Yeah, and you were too stubborn to apologize so you slept on the porch until grandma dragged you back inside."

Ed's smile widened to a grin. "I eventually apologized."

"A week later," Al snorted, shaking his head at his brother's antics. "She was really happy when you did," he added on a softer note. "She told me once that whenever you and her had those big fights, she'd always be afraid that you would never speak to her again."

Ed flexed his jaw and looked away, clenching his fists in his pockets. Winry should know that she meant too much to him for a petty fight to severe those bonds.

"She... she told me that the thought of you leaving her forever frightens her more than anything else," Al bit his lip, hoping that spilling this small piece of information would help his brother regain the determination he was so infamous for. Al didn't need to be a genius to know that Edward was losing hope on ever returning to Amestris.

It had been four years since they had left, after all.

"...I see." Ed said stonily. And Alphonse thought, for a split-second, that perhaps that had been a bad idea. That perhaps telling Edward this phobia of Winry's was wrong; he should have kept it to himself like she had intended it to. But then something happened, something that he hadn't seen since they had gotten his body back.

Edward smirked, his eyes ablaze with a renewed determination. It was the emotion he was so famous for, that blinding glint that many admired.

The determination that Izumi Curtis, their old alchemy teacher, sometimes rudely commented would get him killed one day if the short comments didn't do it first.

"Then I guess we better get working, Al," he grinned, beginning to walk away from him. "We wouldn't want to disappoint Winry, would we? She'd probably kick our asses' with that damn wrench of hers if we don't hurry!"

A slow, bright, smile wormed it's way onto Alphonse's face and he nodded fervently, releasing a grin of his own. "Yeah!"

As Ed walked away, clutching the earrings she had left in his care all those years ago, his eyes wondered back to the Azure Tit, which jumped perkily from branch to branch.

He would come back.

Because he wouldn't (_couldn't) _just give up when the most important person in his life was waiting for him to come back.


	12. Copper

_**Color Theorem**_

_**Summary: **_For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists one and only golden couple, Ed and Winry!_

_**Author's Note: **I was rereading the manga and I saw that scene where the brothers burn their house down as a means to solidify their resolve and I decided to write this. Then I saw Brotherhood episode 11 and I just _had _to incorporate what Ed said in it. If you all watch that episode, this would be the written version of that scene ;D_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. Not for the life in me so don't sue, okay?_

* * *

**012: _Copper_**

* * *

She watched him throw the lit torch to the gasoline-drenched house ahead. It burned a stream of fire for a second before finally catching the wood and igniting with terrible intensity.

The smoke rose black and thick, almost forlornly as the house erupted in flames. The fire licked every inch of the home belonging to her childhood friends, leaving not a single area untouched by the destructive element. The flames were wild and intense and her skin felt like it was melting as the fire swallowed the air around them greedily, reinforcing the fierce inferno before her.

The wood crackled and splintered. She could almost see the objects hidden within those four walls burst and melt and _burn_ as the fire touched them with it's unmerciful hands. She could hear glasses shatter under the temperature, wood groan and creak before succumbing to the heat. She glanced at Ed, who held his State Alchemist watch in his hand.

She saw him squeeze it, saw him stare into the flames that engulfed his home. He watched it burn to the ground – burn every joyful memory; burn out every laugh, every smile, every tear, every fight, every accomplishment, every dream, every single day spent with their beloved mother.

All fated to become ash and be washed away with the wind.

Alphonse stood beside him, tall and hollow in more ways than one, staring into the inferno with eyes she could not read. Her grandmother stood even farther away, beside Al, looking away from the place which held so many dear memories.

"There's no turning back for us now, huh?" Ed said, tightening his hold on his watch. It was the artifact that solidified his mission; the starting point of their long quest. The thing that chained him down to his fate, the object that made him a "dog of the military" and would soon earn him people's ire and disdain.

It pained her that there really _was_ no turning back now.

"Mm-hmm," Alphonse replied beside him.

Winry saw him fist his hands.

Her eyes strayed to the grandiose tree that loomed beside the house, the rope which transformed into a swing and hung from its strong branch. It was the very swing she and Ed and Al would spend hours on playing, laughing, _bonding. _

She watched as that, too, burst into flames before her very eyes.

Tears clouded her vision, and the colors mixed together to form a blurry copper, before her eyes could no longer hold the liquid and they flooded out. They dripped down her cheeks, every drop creating that beautiful shade of copper as the roof collapsed within itself and came crumbling down with the rest.

Edward turned to her and parted his lips to say something.

But instead he smiled.

Her heart wrenched at the sheer tranquility of his smile, the sincerity of it. It did not seem fair, all the trials her two dear friends had experienced at such a young age. Her grandmother had told her enough, she had heard enough, to know what the two brothers had committed with selfless courage.

The forbidden alchemy.

The taboo of the world.

The uneraseable sin.

Human transmutation.

Her throat closed up and she struggled to keep her whimpers and sobs to herself as she heard another beam submit to the flames.

They just wanted to see their mother smile one last time...

"Hey....what are you crying for?"

She did not reply as she buried her face into her hands.


	13. Lavender, Counterpart of Chartreuse

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense._ A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists one and only golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_Eh, I hope this color shot makes all you EdWin lovers out there squeal with glee because right now I'm having a hard time suppressing my grin. It's as fluffy as a brand new pillow, I'll tell you that! As I reread it, I didn't really like it much, but it's better than my last two drafts so I decided to just keep it as it is :)_

_**This is the second part to Chartreuse: the spring festival!**_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Sergeant Fuery and Black Hayate would have daily picnics._

* * *

**013: _Lavender_**

* * *

She could feel her heart beat so fast, fast, fast.

Her hands, she rubbed them hastily on her long and pretty lavender dress, as she waited patiently behind the curtain. She clutched a paper tightly. She could feel her breathing start to speed up and turn painful. Her head hurt a lot. Her stomach felt so heavy and weak.

She could feel the anxiousness start to spiral her into a panic attack.

Where was he?

"Winry, are you ready?"

"What?! Oh, yes, I am..." Her voice sounded so small and pitiful.

The assistant manger who had helped plan this event smiled softly and beckoned her with her finger. "Where is Edward?" She inquired, checking right and left. She tucked the clipboard under her arm and stood at a polite distance away.

Winry's stomach plummeted as the lady gave her a questioning look. She could feel her throat close up and her eyes sting brutally.

"He's... He wasn't able to make it," she smiled weakly. The manager looked mildly surprised but offered a sympathizing smile as Winry continued. "I-I think he got held up in Central..."

"It's alright," she comforted, "I told you it wasn't necessary for you to bring someone with you."

_But I was suppose to,_Winry thought miserably. _It's tradition._ But she let herself get led away by the woman. Soon she was standing just inches from the flowing red curtain, holding the speech to her side, and staring at the rich velvet that made up the only thing that was keeping her hidden from the hundreds of eyes ahead.

"It's almost time!" the manager announced, checking something off in her clipboard.

She didn't respond.

"Alright, we've practiced this over and over again and I know you can do it," the manager said encouragingly. "Are you ready, Winry?"

She took a breath. A deep, long breath. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Okay... in three, two—"

"WAIT!"

A door banged open.

Heavy panting split the silence.

Thudding footsteps.

A hand on her shoulder.

"Wait!" wheezed Ed, resting his palms on his knees as he caught his breath. "I'm here! Holy shit I actually made it.." he mumbled to himself, making Winry crack a smile despite the nervous stabs that weaved through her body.

The manager looked pleased yet pained as she checked the clock. "Thank goodness but now you're _late_! Oh, no! Hurry up! Out, out—oh no..." The manager paled and scurried away as a familiar creak reached her ears.

The curtains reeled back and a bright beam of light made Winry flinch away. She could hear Ed curse softly beside her as he grabbed her arm and steered her towards the center stage. She could hear whispers and chatter and excited giggles. But she was seeing through tunnel vision and all she could focus on was the suddenly towering podium, the microphone placed there, and the bright beam of light that highlighted the antique wood and made it stand out.

When she finally looked up, her stomach fell to her ankles.

The whole arena was packed-full of people. She was sure everyone from Resembool had gathered here that evening, farther off she could see more walk around the rides and buy food from the stands. There were people from Central, too, mingling with the country folk who were always so very generous and amiable. She could see others from other cities as well, mixed along with the swaying crowd. It was not very hard to pick out the foreigners from the country folk.

She barely noticed that the host had begun talking and joking and gesturing to them so very often. She barely noticed the intense shade of red Edward's face had become at something the host said, making the crowd roar with jovial happiness.

All too soon, she was being led by Ed's ever-steady arm towards the podium - that wretched podium that made everything so much harder. Soon she was standing under the bright light, the center of attention, and fiddling with the gold locket her grandmother had given her not too long ago. It had been her mothers. She adjusted the microphone mechanically and suddenly it was much too silent to be comfortable.

Everyone was giving her their undivided attention.

She felt fear consume her.

She placed the paper before her, Ed's comforting aura enveloping her, and opened her mouth.

But nothing came out.

She tried once more, struggled to say those words she spent hours memorizing, only to have a shaky breath escape.

Then, a hand was there. Edward had placed his hand on her shoulder and when she looked, gave her a reassuring smile.

She did not return it and it disappeared all together, leaving behind grave eyes and a concerned scrunch of his brow.

Suddenly, she was remembering the caring smiles and adoring gazes of the parents she hadn't been able to remember since she was ten. It was as if they had been unlocked, if the throbbing ache at her temples said anything. She recalled the gigantic smiles when she picked up and wielded her first wrench at six. The way her father used to swing her 'round and 'round and 'round...

Her hand touched her temple.

Why now?

"You don't have to do this," Ed whispered, and she tensed. "You can always stop. No one's forcing you."

She could.

She could always run away.

But then she wouldn't be Winry Rockbell, tough as nails and unfaltering.

She opened her mouth, and this time, words came out. They flowed out, sounding hurried, and she had to squeeze Ed's hand several times throughout the whole speech. She spoke of the parents she only knew for a short while but had given her more than she could ever imagine. Soon, she slowly began to grow comfortable and soon she was able to say what she wanted without sounding rushed—at least she hoped she didn't.

And just as it had started it had ended.

She had said all she wanted to say, praised her parents bravery and courage and even managed to include a whole three paragraphs specifically directed to the two brothers who faced countless tests of fate: Ed and Al. She included her brazen and cheeky grandmother, her own old pet Den as well, before closing it completely.

She had done it.

And as the crowd clapped and cheered and hooted with life, she stepped down and walked to the back of the curtain with Ed at her side as the host took over once again...

... and promptly collapsed on her knee's.

"Whoa—Winry!" Edward was kneeling next to her, concerned golden eyes searching her own. His flesh hand pressed against her forehead as he checked her pupils and breathing quickly.

Winry chuckled breathlessly, swatting his hand away. "Ed, I'm fine. It's just... I've never done something like that before! I still can't believe I did it! Oh, wow, I did it!" She grinned suddenly, turning her glowing eyes to Ed, who seemed much calmer now that she had explained her little stunt.

"Yeah, you did great," his smile turned devious. "For an amateur."

"An amateur?" She repeated blankly.

His smirk grew wider as he placed his hand close to hers. She had the sharp urge to cover it with her own. "I've done speeches like this more times than you can count on those greasy fingers of yours!"

She felt a vein pop on her temple. "What're you trying to say, Elric?"

"That it was alright," he shrugged, widening his smug smile, drawing closer as he said the next words. Sly, rich, topaz eyes bore into her own for a brief moment. "For an amateur."

"Amateur, huh?" she repeated, bitingly. Her hand twitched to her thigh, where she had strapped down her own wrench. "I'll show you amateur!" She whipped it out and grinned wickedly at the look of pure horror that flooded the elder Elric's face.

"Wh-where did you take that out from?!" he demanded, wide eyed. He dropped his gaze to the milky white flesh of her thigh and felt his face slowly begin to heat up. "Uh..."

"Take that back, you alchemy freak!" Winry screeched and swung her wrench in a powerful uppercut.

Then, applause.

Winry froze and Ed landed some ten feet away from her, clutching his aching jaw and groaning in pain. She whipped her head around, the blood draining from her face when she saw that the curtains had been drawn back without their knowing and everyone had seen their little spat.

"Well, isn't this a wonderful surprise?" The host chuckled. "Girl has an arm on her!"

"Wh—"

"THE HELL YOU DO THAT FOR?!" Edward bellowed, once again on his feet, steaming furiously and oblivious to the open stares from the crowd.

Winry turned her attention back to him, who was still holding his throbbing jaw. "What'd you say, shrimp?!"

"I'm not short and you know it!" Ed glared. "Hell, I'm taller than you!" He even stepped closer - til they were nose to nose and she could feel his sweet breath brush against her cheek – and smirked smugly down at her. He certainly was taller than her. Her nose was even with his own and she frowned when her eyes flickered down to his mouth. She should not be looking there. She forced her eyes to raise, and was suprised to see that Ed was also looking at her own pursed lips.

It almost took her breath away when he shifted his eyes to stare into her own.

Almost.

"Yeah, _now_." she smirked right back, making his eyes flash desirably. She briefly pondered how he was able to look so tempting. "Took ya' long enough."

There a chorus of Ooo's from the crowd.

"At least I'm not an uncute, unsexy, wanna-be automail mechanic."

"At least I'm not some obsessive, _short_, alchemy geek."

Ed resisted the urge to call her out on that. "At least I'm rich," snickering when she dropped her mouth in surprise. Ed wasn't the type of flaunt his monthly salary so flamboyantly.

"At least I've always been _tall_."

He growled viciously. "That was a low blow!"

"So was the 'wanna-be automail mechanic' comment!" she shot right back.

"Uncute!"

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

She gasped. If he wanted to get dirty, she'd get dirty. "Ultra-short, pipsqueak water-flea who you couldn't see even _with_ a magnifying glass!!"

Silence.

Then:

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK, YOU GOD DAMNED AUTOMAIL AFFICTIONADO!" Then, he pounced, and suddenly they were wrestling on the stage floor and she was losing terribly because Ed had become so strong_ (__when did he get so __strong__?)_ that he was overpowering her at every turn.

The world flipped on it's axis as she delivered a powerful punch to his gut. He gripped her hand to stop it before it hit. She briefly wondered, with a plummeting stomach, when Ed had become this... _big_. And strong. And wise. And handsome. And _tall._

When had he grown up?

Suddenly he was on top of her with his hands placed strategically on either side of her head and his mysterious, dark eyes were boring into her own wide and bright ones. Suddenly, the stares from the crowd didn't matter and suddenly all she could think of – _focus on_ – were the lips pulled back in a ridiculous grin of triumph and those beautiful, wonderful, expressive, dark, tempting, sexy—

"Kiss her!" yelled a voice, a voice that strangely sounded like that of Colonel Roy Mustang. But she dismissed the thought. Colonel Mustang must have better things to do than come to some small get-together in the country-side.

"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!" many others began to shout, until mostly everyone was chanting and giggling and wolf whistling.

She stared apprehensively at Edward, who had his head turned to the right, staring at the crowd which cheered for him to do the near-impossible.

"When did..?" his eye twitched. He looked back down, half-scandalized, half-intrigued.

She noticed the beads of sweat that started to form at the base of his neck and it was then that it struck her that it was actually very hot upon the stage. The scorching lights that hung from the caved ceiling above were glaring down at them but she was sure the heat within her had nothing to do with those fluorescent lights.

He swallowed.

She took a breath.

"Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!" they continued, louder and louder as the host also partook in the chant with much more vigor than necessary.

She searched his eyes, watched as they softened somehow, and offered a wary smile.

"It's... it's tradition," she said, before her mind could veto the words.

One kiss couldn't hurt, right?

"Just do it already!!" A voice that sounded strangely like Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc shouted close by and shocked Ed back to earth. He swallowed thickly and looked back to the crowd once before turning back to her. In that moment, one of the staff members had adjusted the light above, shifting it so that they spotlighted the two childhood friends. She closed her eyes to avoid the sharp glare from the lights and opened them to find Edward's painful gaze.

Something had happened, something had made them grow very wide and terrified. The relfection of self-loathe and pain made her stomach turn and when he parted his lips, a dillusional sparkle in his eyes, he only became more heart-wrenched. She could hear his automail hand dig into the wood of the stage. He swallowed thickly, stared horrifyingly into her own confused eyes, and shook his head slowly, until the uneven bangs he had tucked behind his ears became unhinged and they shadowed enough of his face to hide the anguish. He abruptly stood and stumbled away from her, clenching his automail hand until it groaned with the pressure.

There were many boo's and aww's from the crowd but that did not deter the prodigy from rushing behind the curtains.

Winry blinked, blushed terribly, and quickly stood up, patting her dress down and ignoring the laughs from the lot of girls in the front row. She dared to look from her peripheral vision to see the clique of girls, cruel and beautiful as always, laugh hysterically at the flat rejection they had witnessed.

Her blush worsened. _Damn it! _That was the least of her concerns though. Something had happened to Ed back there and needed - _had to _- find out what ha caused him to freeze up like that, look as scared as he did. She stomped back behind the curtains and searched for Ed, her hand itching to grab a hold of her wrench so she could knock some sense into him. He could have at least helped her up!

"ED!" She shouted. "Ed, where are you?"

Silence.

She scowled and continued to stomp down the hall, dodging staff and other performers, in search of a blond with a braid and black heavy boots.

"Ed!" The humiliation slowly began to ebb and the indignation began diminish. Soon she found herself walking a little faster, looking a little harder, for the man she knew she could never stay angry at for too long. "Ed, where are you?" she called once last time, before puffing her cheeks and opening every door to check if Ed had locked himself away in there.

She came to one door, the room she had been in before her speech, to find it locked. She was very sure she had left it open.

She grinned in triumph. Bingo. "Ed!" she banged her fist against the wood. "I know you're in there! Open up!" It was silent but she pressed her ear on the door hard enough to hear shuffling, then more silence. She frowned and knocked a little lighter. "Ed...? Are you alright?"

Nothing.

Winry set her hands on her hips and tried her best to be miffed but only ended up sighing and dropping down to her knee's, where she scooted against the door. She took off her shoes and placed them neatly beside her. She looked down both ways, seeing nothing but an empty corridor. She could hear some light talk from the room across her, but aside from that, it was eerily quiet.

Then there was a creak, which became louder and louder as time passed. She found herself wondering what it could be, and leaned back only to find her head connect with concrete. She bit her tongue in an effort to quiet her whimper.

"Ouch!" she hissed, clutching her head

"Win—sorry about that," Ed said quietly, bangs shading his eyes from her sight. "I didn't know you were there." A hand helped her up and she gratefully leaned into it as she got to her feet. She dusted herself off, scowling, and shut the door behind her.

Darkness.

"Whats the matter, Ed?" Winry asked, touching the wall in an effort to find the light-switch. "You know, you could have at least helped me up from the stage! Geez, that was really embarrassing! Ugh, and those stupid girls from the plains laughed at me..." she found herself mumbling, still searching for the switch. "Why'd you run off the stage, anyways, Ed?" She found it and clicked it but nothing happened. She tried again. "Stupid faulty switch..."

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that," she heard his nervous chuckle. "I guess... I guess I just got a little overwhelmed."

Winry snorted. "Of what? Attention? We both know you live for that, Ed," she smiled, squinting through the dark for her childhood friend. "Where are you anyways?"

"In front of you."

"What? No way! I can't see you."

"Then you must have vision problems because I can see you perfectly."

"Ack! Is this some sort of alchemy trick?"

"Are you stupid? Alchemy can't alter vision, idiot!"

"Humph. How am I suppose to know that? I'm an automail technician not apart of the freak parade!" she mumbled the last part but she still heard Ed's exasperated sigh, meaning he had heard the petulant comment.

"Well, I am." She felt a hand brush her shoulder. "See?"

"No, I can't actually."

Ed exhaled sharply and stepped closer, until she could feel his breath brush against her eyelashes and feel his body heat radiate like a heater. It engulfed her, started that warm tickle deep within her stomach, which she ignored in order to stay coherent and normal. If she gave into the sensation, she was sure to say something uncalled for. She hesitantly raised her hand to touch his arm – his automail arm – and was surprised to see he had taken off the tux jacket and shirt.

"Why did you..?"

"I hate wearing those things," he admitted, rather sheepishly. "They're itchy and restrain movement a lot. I was looking for something to wear when you came in."

Winry stiffly lowered her arm. _So.. he's-he's half-naked!? _She scowled at herself. _Stop it, you've seen Ed stripped down to his boxers for automail maintenance! There is nothing to be embarrassed about! _"Uh, so the light switch doesn't work." Great. Winry nearly face-palmed herself. Why did she have to go stating the glaring obvious?

"Yeah, I figured that when it wouldn't turn on," he replied dryly. He moved to the side, holding her shoulder as he flicked the switch once more. "It was working fine a couple of moments ago, though."

"Oh," was all she said, clearing her throat. "So... back then. In the stage.. what happened?" She searched the dark and found the vague shape of a person right beside her. She could barely see the outline of Ed but she could see enough to know that he was using his arm to lean against the wall.

He didn't say anything.

"Ed," she reached out and grabbed his arm. She gave it a little squeeze. "Please tell me. You looked awfully scared... what did you see?" she added with some trepidation.

"It was the light," he said after a while. He removed his arm from her hand, stepping back. "It made you look... different. The light reflected from your locket and it made you look... look.." He took a shuddering breath. "Mom," he said hoarsely. "I saw mother for a moment and I-I knew it wasn't her but for a moment... you two look nothing alike but..."

_The light... what a horrible trick of the light, _she thought sadly, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his bare torso. "It's okay," she said softly, listening to him being strong again; listening to him suck up those tears she knew he wanted to shed. She often found herself pondering this act of his - the idea that if he withheld enough of his emotions, they all just be stored away somewhere far enough that he would not need to revist them again.

"It's okay, Ed. Your mother... auntie Trisha was really beautiful. I'll, um, take it as a compliment," she laughed weakly. She buried her nose into his neck, sucked up the hiccup, and held him a little bit tighter.

"Winry," Ed whispered, almost as weakly as she, and she felt his hand fall limp beside him before raising and resting on her shoulder. "What are you crying for?"

"Because... you can't," she whispered, closing her eyes and extending the intimate moment – the moment that, in the darkness, made it so easy to just spill all of her dark secrets. Maybe it was the dark, or the fact that they were really alone, or even that the door behind her was securely locked, that made her feel so comfortable and relaxed. The fact that they were alone, for the first time in ages, with no one waiting for them to come back. It was just them, for the moment. "So just shuddup and let me cry for you, you big dumb alchemy freak," she said quietly and pressed closer. She could smell the earthy scent, the sweet scent of metal and oil, that he emitted so powerfully; that attracted her to him like a magnet.

The rumble in his chest comforted her, made shivers crawl down her arms and up her spine. It intensified and soon it became apparent to her that he was laughing. At least he wasn't sad anymore but Winry couldn't help the flare of fury at his amusement.

"What's so funny?" she asked, pushing him away and wiping her tears. Her face began to burn at his laughter. "You better not be laughing at me, Ed!"

"I'm not, I'm not, I promise," he amended. Even through the dark she could still see his smile. "I'm just lucky to a friend like you around." The words were so sincere, so honest, that they made her chest constrict with bittersweet joy.

She felt her smile slowly fade. She was suddenly glad for the dark, for he would not be able to see the happy sadness, the total conflict of emotions, in her eyes. _Friend, huh? _"Yeah," she whispered, stepping away and giving a pained smile he would never see. "I'm glad you're my friend, too, Ed."

"Ah, we should go outside," she added before he could speak. "Al is probably waiting for us and I promised to let him get on rides with me before we leave." She quickly turned but faltered. "Oh, right. Clothes. I think the manager said there was an extra set of clothes around here somewhere." She avoided touching him as she felt her way across the room. She reached to the right drawer and took out some articles of clothes. Her hands felt the silky soft and nearly liquid feel to them, indicating that the clothes were not male. "Shoot, these are for women!" She shoved them back and paused before tossing him his previous shirt instead. "I guess you're going to have to stay in your tux, Ed. Sorry." She walked back to the door, flinching when Ed's hand touched her arm briefly when he stuck his arm into the sleeve.

Her hand was on the knob.

So close.

"Winry, wait."

_Oh, no, _she winced. Had been obvious about her emotions... again? "Yes?" she asked hesitantly.

Silence.

"Look, Ed, we really gotta' go. Al's waiting and—"

It all happened so fast.

She was standing there, cold and miserable, hand on the door knob and ready to leave, when next thing she knew, she was being held so carefully in his arms. A gush of his wonderful scent bombard her senses and left her dizzy with desire. His arms – so strong and wide – wrapped around not her shoulders but her waist, something that was very rare. She was the one who usually started the embraces and he was the one who usually ended them.

It was ritualistic, a process they had fallen into over the years. It tilted her world off-kilter, to have him initiate such intimate contact. But at the same time, it made her feel warm and wanted; made the small flower of hope inside her chest swell with life.

"E-Ed?" she said breathlessly. "What...

"I'm sorry," he said, rushed. "Those girls – they're probably going to make fun of you for what I did. I shouldn't have just left you on the stage like that so don't hit me with that damn wrench of yours later when you remember!" he gripped her tighter and she could feel his small smile against her neck.

This piece of information made her relax in his embrace but made another, stronger, emotion start to branch out within. She slowly raised her hands, lifted them up to his shoulders and let her nails rake down his broad back. A friend of hers had done this to her boyfriend and Winry had been unlucky enough to see it. It had elicited an odd reaction from the man, made his eyes hazy and an odd noise escape him. Winry remembered asking her friend what she had done, and the girl had only laughed and said she would understand when she was older and had someone to love. Winry heard Ed shudder a breath, whisper her name, only adding fuel to the fire. She stood straighter, slowly gaining confidence when he didn't push her away. She repeated the process once more, listening to the shaky sigh that escaped the young alchemist. She unwound a hand and pressed it against his cheek, brushed a finger across the bridge of his nose; over the rough bristles that indicated he had not shaved properly this morning in his haste.

His automail hand moved jerkily, like it always did, and pressed against the small of her back. His flesh hand, warm and careful, dug into her hair.

She could feel his awkwardness, and any other time she would have probably laughed at him about it, but at this moment, in that time, she found it thoroughly endearing and only helped him along with subtle little pushes until they were so close their chests bumped into each other with every breath.

There were no words needed.

She felt him lean down, until their noses touched, and she leaned up on her tip-toes.

Their heartbeats thrummed as one.

Their breath's intermingled softly.

They were so close... so, so close.

They had barely managed to press their lips together, savor the silky softness of one another's mouths, curve them into each others with eager passion, when the door slammed open and light blinded them.

"Winry! Brother! You would never guess who came here to hear Winry's speech! It's Colonel... Oh." Alphonse stared at them, their frozen forms, lips still connected albeit unmoving.

"Full Metal, I regret to tell you that... well, well, well, what do we have here?" Mustang smirked, coming to a stop beside Alphonse and raising his brows conspiratorially. "I take it back, Lieutenant. Don't de-rank Full Metal." The Colonel eyed Ed's barely buttoned shirt. "Perhaps a promotion is in progress?"

The two spotlighted teenagers leaped back, wiped their lips furtively against their arms, and sent a sharp glare at the people crowding the door. Riza was trying hard not to smile. Alphonse, though a body of armor, could somehow still look as if he was grinning madly. Havoc _was_ grinning madly and Major Armstrong was prattling on about spring love and privacy and how he knew this was to be.

But what killed Ed the most, what made him gnash his teeth together and growl animalistically, was the utter satisfaction and glee and _smugness _Colonel Mustang exuded as he stood at the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh, woe," Roy sighed, dramatically. "You just had to do it in private, did you not, Full Metal?" An idea dawned to Mustang and his smirk widened. "Or did you have _another _idea in mind, shrimp? I'll admit, it _was _a good strategy... for an amateur."

"WHO YOU CALLING AN AMATURE, YOU BASTARD COLONEL?!"

_Well, how ironic, _Winry thought dryly, grabbing Ed by his sleeve and deciding that now would be a great time to stop his tantrum least he be charged with court martial for insulting his superior.

"ED!" Winry scolded, grabbing him by the collar as he tried to deliver a punch to the Colonel, who was looking all-too-pleased. She whipped out her wrench and slammed it atop his head, successfully desisting her friends rabid advances on his superior. She tried her best to ignore the suggestive looks she was getting from Havoc and Roy, and was more than relieved when Riza took out her hand gun and stoically reloaded it behind them.

The two men stood stiffly and relented.

Armstrong spouted some nonsense about Ed and Winry being infected by spring love and dragged both Havoc and Roy away from the scene with a skip in his step. Riza, surprisingly, gave her a small nod of approval before following Armstrong, who seemed to be squeezing the life out of both Roy and Havoc with his overpowering hug. Alphonse hastily excused himself after her, giving Ed a none-too-subtle thumbs up and slamming the door behind him.

Then it was silent once more save for Ed's growling which slowly ceased the longer they stood in the darkness.

A bubble of laughter forced its way up her throat and it wasn't long before Ed caught the infectious laughter that was slowly rising in volume.

"Come on, Ed," Winry giggled, opening the door to reveal the bright light from the hall. Her lips tingled and her stomach felt light and fluttery. "Let's go join the others!" There was a dark flush on her cheeks but at the moment she did not care – she was too happy to care about the color of her face!

She saw Ed's eyes trail over her cheeks, saw his lips twitch into an almost imperceivable smirk, before he took the lead and draped the tux jacket over his shoulder. As he passed her, a light dust of pink across his cheeks, he grinned and said over his shoulder, "Well, what are you waiting for? Didn't you promised Al you'd take him on the rides?"

She felt her blush only burn brighter, something, she thought later, once she was at home snuggled warmly in her bed, that pleased Ed all the more as they walked down the hall with her shoes held in her hand.


	14. Black

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense._ A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_This is more AU – it's kinda outlandish but I've been daydreaming about this for days now so I decided 'what the hay!' and wrote it out. I'm probably wrong on some aspects but I hope you can still enjoy it! Hmm, these one-shots are more like story-prompts to me... eh, they're snippets in time, technically one-shots XD_

_Please _**_review_**_!_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Riza would be an All-Star basketball player._

* * *

**014: _Black_**

* * *

It was an accident.

It wasn't _suppose _to happen – not to her of all people. Not to country-born Winry Rockbell. She was the intruder here. She was the enemy. She was to be blamed.

She was not suppose to _be _wondering a highly-restricted military-operated building in the first place.

She faintly wondered what would have happened if she had only stayed inside Riza Hawkeye's office like she had been ordered to instead of sneaking out and meandering around the giant building, inevitably following a passage that felt strange and elicited a gut feeling that just _told_ her to follow it. She had been faced with a clearly transmuted wall and she had crushed it open with her wrench, watching the rest simply crumble away. It did not take a genius to know the alchemy had been weak. Whoever had done it was obviously not very good, severely distracted, or weak for one reason or another...

But those thoughts vanished when she saw a narrow hall and a looming door.

She wasn't suppose to open it. She wasn't even suppose to _be_there, panting and alone, listening to the eerie whistle of air, and watching the strong wooden door obsessively.

After all, she had traveled to Central only to show Riza the new automail project she had been working on, since the older woman took some genuine interest in her life's work.

But she could not have let _it_ happen...

Not again.

Never again.

Even though access to this particular area was strictly forbidden to the likes of her, she could care less as she stared at the five dead bodies that surrounded that devil's circle. The once-looming door behind her seemed so small, so weak, now that she stood before something greater than even herself.

She was there, whether she believed it or not, standing at the doorway, staring wide-eyed at the familiar geometric shapes and streaks that painted the room like a sick masterpiece. The whole room was aglow with an ominous color, a violet so dark it nearly resembled black at it's darkest shade. She could feel the energy prickling around her; surging through her body as she watched that man, his eyes dull and haunted, slap his hands together as all alchemists did whenever they were preparing to preform a transmutation.

Only she recognized these symbols.

She had seen them all those years ago, when Ed and Al had done their first human transmutation. She had glimpsed them before her grandmother pulled her away from the crime scene. She had also seen it in Ed's little travel log; the half-hearted doodle in the back, though this replica was scarily perfect in nature.

She remembered all those awful memories that never ceased to remind her of how close she had come to losing them. Over and over and over again. And how she had finally, once and for all, lost them both five years prior to the very gate which was going to be open in that moment.

And she hadn't felt true fear like this since Ed had come back from that other world with a half-working arm and leg, eyes exhausted and wasted and his skin a pasty, sickly, white.

_He's going to... _She parted her lips as the alchemist summoned that crackle of energy.

This alchemist was going to preform the ever-forbidden human transmutation.

"No," she whispered, barely taking notice of the sudden ruckus around her; how those twisted scientists that watched eagerly were starting to encircle her, ask her who she was and how she entered.

But she had come in the brink of time, the man took no notice of her as he concentrated and slapped his hands on the chalky concrete floor.

"NO!!" Winry cried, bolting forward and grabbing the man by the collar.

But she was a tad too late.

Suddenly, sound ceased. Winry froze as she stared at the abrupt tear in dimensions. Her hand weakened on his collar and she hastily backpeddaled, eyes widening at the phenomenon. She saw something that made her stomach want to turn over and expel her lunch: hands. Hundreds of thousands of hands bursting through a screen of charcoal, aiming right towards her despite being partially out of the transmutation circle.

The opening itself was pitch black, ringing with laughter, cries of agony, whispers, chatter, screams, as hands reached out and gripped her so tightly she could feel them fondling the very marrow of her _bones. _She reached out for the man who had started this in the first place, watched his expression go from fascination to horror as he was trapped within the hands as well.

_This is the first time, _she realized with escalating terror. _This is the first time it actually worked! _She didn't know if she should feel relieved or sick.

She didn't even have time to scream, all too soon she was being pulled back. She felt that fearsome sensation of falling as the world tipped over on itself and she was pulled into an abyss of nothing. An arm clapped itself over her mouth, muffling the petrified scream that was only swallowed the overwhelming cries of lost souls as she fell and fell and fell...

She could _feel _them – touching her, gripping her, scratching her – and she shut her eyes and forced herself to scream so hard she would not be surprised if she had deafened herself.

Then, it stopped.

Winry opened her eyes and gasped.

She was staring point-blank at stretching stone doors.

These doors loomed over her ominously, embellished with symbols she had never seen before. Words and odd shapes encrypted this door as well but all Winry was focused on was the noticeable slit that split it in half and gave it the rightful title of a door, a gate.

So this was the infamous gate she had heard Edward and Alphonse speak about when they thought she was asleep.

This door... this massive door. That meant—

"Hello."

Winry gasped and stepped away from the gate she had been steadily raising her hand to touch. Her frightened blue eyes stopped on the child sitting idly on the floor a few feet away. But it was only a silhouette – a blurry outline of something that resembled human.

She could see no face, no characteristics that would deem it male or female. But Winry was sure the voice was child-like in tenor.

"Hello." Winry was surprised she could even speak. "Who... Who are you? I'm-I'm Winry... Rockbell..."

"Well, at least you have more manners than most mortals do when they come to visit me," the child replied, standing up, sounding very jovial.

Winry felt unnerved by the fact that she could see nothing but white all around her. Even more when she noticed this _child_, this thing standing before her, was merely a smudged out, translucent, shadow of something greater. The knowledge, the twisted wise tone, everything about it made her feel small and insignificant.

"I am many things," it responded, almost boredly. "The universe. The world. The Superior Being. God. Or as Edward Elric prefers to call me: Truth." The mention of his name was planned, she was sure if it. The tension between them grew in intensity, as the being stared at her piercingly.

Someone moved beside her, which roused Winry from her queasy thoughts. She turned to see a man, the very man that had preformed that abhorrent alchemy, recoil from both of them. He stared at Truth, fear vivid in his eyes, before gaping with realization.

"Is he your trade?" Truth pipped innocently enough. But to Winry it sounded like a death sentence.

"No! He's not!" she denied fervently, almost stepped infront of the alchemist as if to shield him from Truth's hungry gaze.

"Oh?" Truth queried, awfully intrigued. "So you are _his _trade?"

"What's this trade you're talking about?" Winry asked hysterically, watching the alchemists face dawn with realization before shifting to fear."I - _we _- just want to go back home!"

"Oh, humans," Truth slurred with disgust. "What I mean is, is he your trade for your passing to the other side? That is what you both want, after all."

Somehow Winry knew that Truth was looking at her specifically. She could just feel the way this creature's eyes bore into her, dissecting her every thought and laying them down on the table one by one; prodding intimate thoughts and laughing at others.

She never felt more exposed in her life.

"We aren't any one's trade!" Winry shouted, ignoring her own uncertainty. "Just take us back! We just want to go back." _But, Ed. _Her eyes flashed to the gate. They, _he_, was beyond those two stone doors. Her eyes shakily shifted to the alchemist, the sinner, the blasphemer.

All she had to do was confirm he was her trade, right? She knew equivalent exchange – this was no different. A human soul for a human soul.

A cold spell washed through her body.

How could she think that?

"But you see, Winry Rockbell, I simply cannot do that," said Truth, a terrible amusement slicking his child-like voice. "To return to the place you belong or to cross to where you beloved Edward Elric is requires a toll. Everything does, you should know this very well," he spoke pointedly to the alchemist.

"But I never wanted to come here!" Winry cried, shooting a glare at the man still cowering under Truth's enigmatic form. "I wasn't suppose to come here! I wasn't—"

"But you still did," Truth interrupted, disdainfully. "You still came and it was for your own foolishness that you are here now, suspended in time, with me. Now you both must chose. Who will be the trade?" Truth calmly sat down, propping his leg up and resting his chin on it in an almost innocent gesture.

But to Winry the position mocked her.

She brought a quivering hand up to cover her mouth to muffle a choke as her stomach heaved. Blood zinged through her veins, pulsed fervently in her arteries. Her body refused to respond, felt bolted to the floor. Time was running out, slipping through her fingers like sand, and she knew that if she did not say something - do something - he was going to chose one of them.

Or perhaps none of them...

"SHE IS!" the alchemist shouted abruptly, breaking the silence.

Winry froze.

"She's my trade! She's my toll!" The man continued, still pointing at her.

_N-No! _Winry thought, appalled. _NO I'M NOT! I'M NOT YOUR TRADE YOU DAMN—_

"Very well," Truth conceded. "She is your trade, then..."

"N-No," she whispered.

"What was that?" Truth nearly purred, turning back to face her seized form.

"No, I am not his trade," she said, more audibly. "I'm not his trade! He's..." She stopped. She couldn't say it, could she? _He's my trade? _Her stomach gave another roll.

_I can't say that. How can I say something so selfish? _She thought heartbreakingly. _But he's willing to trade me to save his life. He's willing to save himself by using me as a sacrifice! If anyone deserves to be a trade it's him! _She convinced herself poorly.

"You filthy mortals will have to chose soon," Truth said, cutting through her thoughts sourly. "One of you will die here today. Choose. Now."

"She's my trade!!" the alchemist roared.

"No I'm not!!" she roared back.

Truth faced them sharply. "Enough of this, you both bore me! You, Winry!" Truth pointed. "Tell me why I should let you live."

"Because—because," Winry glanced at the man, who watched her darkly. "I... don't have a real reason to live. I've committed many sins in my life but..." _I need to live for the people that need me back in Resembool. _She thought despairingly. _I need to...but Ed. I can use... _Her eyes flicked to the man, who stared at her with an expression close to murder. _I won't die here. Not yet. _"I deserve to live because I wasn't the one who wanted touch lands that are forbidden to us! Not like him!" she said accusingly. "I wanted to stop it! We shouldn't be allowed to tread on areas forbidden to us... lands that are meant for-for," she suddenly remembered Rose, with her pink bangs and kind smile, speaking of the sun God, Leto, with fondness. "Gods. We aren't Gods. We're human. Just human. This," she motioned with disgust. "isn't for _us_. We aren't mean to be here! Not until... not until," she remembered Ed and Al, and how they tried so hard to bring their deceased mother back; for the longing they felt at just wanting to see her smile one last time; how that yearning was enough for two boys to sacrifice everything, "not until we die. We're just human," her eyes watered, recalling Ed's anguished words. "I'm just human."

_I don't belong here. We all don't._

Her voice echoed in the emptiness.

Only the nameless alchemist's soft snort and her own labored breathing could be heard.

Suddenly, laughter.

It took her a moment to realize that it was coming from Truth, who seemed to be clutching his sides as he laughed a laugh that only made her stomach plummet to her ankles.

"You humans entertain me so!" Truth laughed. "Mortals and their narrow-minded thoughts! But life has taught you well. Better than Edward Elric, anyway," Truth smirked coldly. "He got what he deserved, that selfish brat." The statement was vindictive in nature.

Winry felt a surge of wrath. "So a child deserves to lose an arm and a leg? His brother deserved to lose his entire _body_? Is that what you're saying!?"

"Yes," he replied calmly. "It was his own ignorance and greed that got him what he deserved. It was only fair, after all, like you said, mortals aren't meant to touch the lands of the Gods," the laughter in his voice made her head cloud with rage. "But mortals will be mortals and _try. _Foolishly try to attain something beyond them, unreachable." Truth's grin stretched wide. "Unattainable dreams are the best ones, after all."

Winry balled her hands, azure eyes drowned with hatred. "He only wanted to see his mother smile again! He only wanted to see her smile one last time! Is that so much to ask for?! He was only ten! TEN! How was he suppose to know? TELL ME HOW!!" she screamed.

"He misused his knowledge and blatantly ignored the warning. He knew what he was getting into," Truth continued, nonchalantly. "They wanted a power they could not have. Those who die are not meant to come back. They can _never _come back, not for the price Edward Elric was willing to pay, not for any price. It does not have a toll, for no price can be enough to bring the dead back to the world of the living. He know's this very well now," it drawled slyly. "Now, enough chat. You," Truth said, pointing at the fallen alchemist. "will be her trade."

"W-what?! NO!" He yelled, pulling himself together for the last time. "You never asked me why I deserve to live! It's not fair—"

"Are you stupid?" The child asked rhetorically, making Winry's stomach squirm again. "I am Truth. I am the one being in this whole universe that know's it all. I am all-knowing, I am everything you pathetic humans wish to become. I am one in all. I was always aware of your intentions, fool." He turned to Winry, an eerie grin on his face. "And I was always aware of yours, too, Winry Rockbell."

Dread crawled within her.

"Such a selfless speech, full of innocence and naiveté, strength and knowledge," Truth mused, walking to the side of the humongous gate and leaning against it. "But you were never as selfless as you portrayed yourself to be, were you? Your greedy ways kept getting in the way of what was right. Your want kept you from doing the right thing." He looked up and stared into her wide eyes. "You gave yourself to temptation, girl." It laughed again. "All those words and without a pinch of sincerity... how bold of you to think you could fool me." His voice lowered dangerously, taking on a hostile and vicious note. "Filthy human."

It happened in between heart beats.

Next thing she knew, the nameless alchemist was gone. Her eyes barely managed to scrape past the gate as it closed, to see the swirling figures beyond it, followed by the scream of terror that would be forever etched in her mind.

"Where," she asked tremulously, "w-where did you take him?"

"That is none of your concern," Truth dismissed. "Now, miss Winry Rockbell, I would hold onto that toolbox of yours if I was you." He was back to his sitting position, resting his chin on his knee. He gave her a wicked grin that made her insides freeze. "Until we meet again."

Winry never even saw the gate throw it's doors open, releasing the onslaught of arms that wrapped around her body once more and spurned her into it's dark labyrinth of horrors. Her shrieks resounded off the blank abyss of Truth's domain, high and terrorized. The hand that reached out to him, desperate; eyes that begged for redemption and stained with regret, met him.

They were strange creatures, mortals.

"Humans..." Truth mused aloud, once the gate had closed and her voice had faded from the emptiness that abounded. He closed his eyes and rose his hand, feeling as skin knit itself upon the translucent outline. "...are such fascinating creatures." When he opened his eyes, they were black and grinning, resembling the fallen alchemist which had served as Winry's toll.


	15. Beige

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists one and only golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_Ah, I always pictured Ed being shot down when he was little ever since Arakawa-sama brought it up in the first place XD It's just such a hilarious conversation! I had to write it down! None of this happened in the manga – I just made up my own version of how Ed and Al proposed to Winry and both got shot down._

_PLEASE REVIEW!!_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, the first anime would have never existed and Brotherhood would rule all :D_

_

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_

**015: _Beige_**

* * *

He remembered the color of her dress that day all those years ago, a light beige with lime green sandles and her hair pulled back into two pigtails. He remembered how her lips had puckered in annoyance and her eyes bore into his own with deadpanned humor. He had acquired a bruised knee and a scraped hand where Alphonse had shoved him into the river and dashed off to find Winry.

"_I'M going to marry Winry!"_

"_No, I am!"_

"_No, I am!" _

"_No... I ... AM!—ACK! AL GET BACK HERE!! NO FAIR!!"_

He would laugh about it now, everytime he thought about it. He had never been very good at hand-to-hand combat, even after their master, Izumi Curtis, had trained him vigorously and thoroughly. He could barely hold his own against his brother, much less his merciless teacher.

Yet all those years ago, when he was only seven and Alphonse a measly six, with absolutely not training and having learned to throw punches from watching the older kids brawl, his younger brother had bested him. Of course, if anyone asked him now, he would flatly say he had let his brother win. That wasn't the case, in reality. Alphonse had fairly dodged his blow, tripped him and sent him barreling into the river, where he broke through the surface seeing red as his little brother plucked out some nice daisies and skipped over to Winry's house.

He was right behind him with – he laughed himself silly one time, remembering what he had plucked in his indignation – flaking, slightly crushed, dandelions in his little hands and, to his gleeful surprise, managed to catch up to Alphonse in seconds time.

Al might've been the strongest but he was always the fastest.

"_Winry, will you marry me?!" Alphonse asked breathlessly, going as far as getting on one knee as his brother's furious cries of injustice carried on from behind him._

_Winry looked up from the heavy medical textbook she had been curiously reading. A lot of the terms made little sense to her and the sentence ran on for days, if she had any say, but she got the gist of it when they listed materials, ingredients, or even herbs._

"_No," she replied without hesitation, watching Al's face fall. _

"_W-why?" he asked, lips trembling, sending a glare to his brother, who snickered as he caught his breath._

"_Winry!!" Ed shouted, grabbing her attention. "Marry me!" He shoved the dandelions into her face, making her pucker her lips and turn away._

"_No."_

"_EH!?" Ed scowled and crossed his arms, ignoring Al's weary smile. "Why not?"_

"_'Cause I'm not gonna' marry a guy shorter than me!" Winry stuck her tongue out, giggling when a dark shadow gloomed over the younger boy and he fervently denied his short stature._

_Alphonse laughed as his brother threw a tantrum and asked, "How come you won't marry me, Winry?"_

"_'Cause you're younger than me and Ed combined!" Winry glanced at Ed, who was parading around, stomping and shooting lethal glares at her. She looked down in thought, frowning. "And 'cause I'm not gonna' marry the brother of an icky short-stuff like HIM!!" She slammed her textbook closed and marched back up the stairs and into her home, chin up in childish conceit, leaving the two brothers bewildered as they watched her go._

"_...I'M NOT SHORT! UGH! WINRY, YOU STUPID HEAD!!" Ed bellowed in fury, knocking his fist in her direction as Alphonse dragged his brother away from the house before he did anything rash._

"_Oh, well," Al sighed, giggling when Ed followed behind him silently, grumbling to himself. "We're not gonna' marry Winry, I guess."_

_Ed shook his head, gold eyes staring ahead determinedly. "No, I _will _marry Winry. She's gonna' marry me one way or another, damn it!"_

_Alphonse stopped and stared at his brother._

"_Ooooo!" Al gasped, eyes going wide. Ed's eyes also widened and he looked at his brother desperately. "....I'm telling mommy!" He broke into a run. "MOMMY! MOMMY! ED SAID A BAD WORD AGAIN!!"_

"_NO I DIDN'T! MOM, HE'S LYING!" he dashed after his brother, laughing along with him as they raced though the dirt to reach their house on the hill._

"Brother?" Alphonse's voice roused him awake. Edward drifted his gaze from the window to his sibling, who sat across from him, holding a small leather-bound alchemy book in his hand.

"What is it, Al?"

"What were you thinking about?" Al tilted his head to the side in curiosity. "You were smiling an awful lot..."

Edward chuckled, sinking deeper into his seat as the train rattled and bounced. Yes, he still remembered the color of her dress, the annoyed expression, and the pitiful excuses for not accepting their marriage proposals. She couldn't use that now as he had noticed a few months ago, when he last saw her, that they were both equal in height.

And that was without his platform boots.

"I was remembering the day when we both proposed to Winry," he chuckled again and soon Alphonse was also laughing.

"She shot us both down without a second thought, huh?" Al placed the book down on his lap, reminiscing on the times when the most trouble they got into was sneaking into their fathers chambers and raiding bookcase.

"Yeah..." Ed resumed his gazing out the window, watching the colors melt into each other as they passed the country side at breakneck speed. "She did, didn't she?"

Alphonse quietly looked at his brother for a moment, before grabbing the alchemy book he had bought in Central some days ago and turning to a random page. "So, when _are_ you going to propose to her again?"

Ed choked on his saliva and sent Al a disbelieving look. "W-What!? Are you insane?!"

"If I do recall, you said you were going to make Winry marry you one way or another." If Alphonse could grin, he would be doing so at the moment. "Will you give her a traditional ring or will you transmute a bolt into a ring? Personally, I think a bolt would do just fine. Perhaps one of yours from your automail to give it sentimental value."

"Alphonse!" Ed snapped, face growing red, his brain unable to create a worthy enough retort for his brother's mock as he was actually seriously considering the suggestion. This only made his face grow redder and his irriation rise.

Al laughed heartily. "Brother, I was just kidding!"

Ed huffed and crossed his arms, kicking his boot against the table that separated the both of them. The red in his cheeks had yet to disappear. "Yeah, well, it wasn't funny."

Al lifted his book to eye-level and stared at his brother over the top of the book after a few minutes of silence. "... Are you going to?"

"What's that suppose to mean?!" Ed seemed to have choked on his saliva for a second time and Alphonse only sighed, waiting for the seizure of shock to wear off.

"Well?" Al repeated patiently.

Edward cleared his throat and looked away, sinking lower into his seat. "What makes you so damn sure it will be her?"

"Who else is there, brother?" There was a sudden pause. "Unless... Brother, do you like someone else—?!"

"No!" Ed interrupted, hastily. "Ah, I mean, _no_! But how can you be so sure it's her!?" He amended, regaining control of the conversation. "Who the hell would want to marry that violent, uncute, automail junkie?! I'd probably be dead by the end of year one so long as she has that blasted wrench with her! Then what'll you do?" He crossed his arms and sunk deeply into his seat, eying his automail suspiciously as he did. Indeed, who would like such a _tomboy_? Much less marry!

Ed squeezed his mechanical hand, brows scrunched in thought. Well, Winry _did _make a killer apple pie and she _did _change her wardrobe to suit her youth. She also _did _tie her hair back in a girly fashion and she _did _apply lip balm, since he had caught sight of the small stick one time during her visits. Despite the fact she wore working boots and had no qualms about getting her hands dirty, Winry was a girl through and through.

This only made Ed more irritated. Why'd she have to go be a... a _girl _all of a sudden!? Why'd he have to go listing off her many characteristics and _how _did he know so _many_?

Unless...

"Great," Ed muttered, bumping his head against the window. "Stupid automail junkie..."

Alphonse sighed sharply. Edward had been so close to having a life-altering moment, he saw it, but his sibling just _had _to go stubbornly push every glaring fact away.

"Brother, it seems you are still much too immature to handle this particular conversation," he said sagely, immersing himself back into his alchemy book and ignoring his brothers roars of protest as the train rattled onto their destination: Central.


	16. Brown

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary:**For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense._ A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_This one is short and sweet. It's just something I wrote out a couple of months ago and decided to add to this ever-growing collection. I'm running out colors since I don't wanna' include 'red-orange' and all that. So I'll probably end up putting alternative names for colors. Like Lavender or Pearl or Opal...and stuff._

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed would be a male model for automail._

* * *

**016: _Brown_**

* * *

And she swore the tears trailing down her face were from happiness. Really, they were.

The ground was muddy and wet. The rain was falling in torrents, soaking her to the bone and leaving her with a chill she couldn't rub away. Her clothes were dripping and dirty, smudged with grease and oil and sprinkles of ash from the furnace she had been working with for the past five hours.

Her hair was tied into a hasty pony tail, matting on her sweaty forehead and weighed down by the heavy rain fall. Her skin felt slick and sticky but she couldn't care less as she began to see shadows slowly become visible ahead.

Her clothes were old and worn; torn from years of use and spotted with stains from all those hours of grueling work on automail.

Her shoes were dirty and streaked black and used and torn and everything a girl wouldn't want to wear, even on her most laziest days.

But she was different.

She always was.

She was Winry Rockbell, automail mechanic, childhood friend, perhaps future lover – if she could hope for that much.

And she had never felt happier as she watched Ed and Al hike down that road, waving madly and grinning widely – completely ignoring the icy droplets of water that rained from from the thunderous, cloudy, sky above.

Because at the moment, not even the mud that crept into her shoes and splattered her pants could keep her from running up to them and enveloping both in a well-deserved welcome back hug.


	17. Platinum

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to became a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists one and only Ed and Winry!_

**Authors Note: **_Mind all of you, I'm using things like 'ash' or 'platinum' as color prompts. Because, technically, that specific shade of color has no real name, aside from the most obvious ones, which doesn't make things fun at all. So just keep this in mind during the next few oneshots. Enjoy._

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Lust's boobs would suffocate the world..._

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**017: _Platinum_**

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"_Enduring and forgiving are two different things.  
You must not forgive the cruelty of this world.  
It is our duty as human beings to be angry at the injustice.  
But we must also endure it.  
Because someone must severe this chain of hatred."_

She hates her heart.

In the moment, she loathes her conscious; the way it keeps screaming and screaming and screaming for her to not grab the gun. But she does not think she _can _because as she stares into Scar's eyes, sees the darkness and anguish wound tight in those sneered-upon red eyes, she thinks she _could _shoot him and put him out of this misery.

The gun is as heavy as a piece of platinum in her hand. It reminds her of the metal she heats and melts and hammers in order to create her greatest masterpieces. It is a gritty and dirty and hard process but she can do it because she is _strong_ enough.

Scar narrows his eyes and she see's challenge flash within them.

Her own eyes are watery and panicked and she knows she does not present the same fierceness he does and she thinks, as she lets the hate overcome her for one moment, that she can come to like the sight of widening eyes, the glimmer that spoke of fear, and the tensing of muscles in another person as she gives the gun a confident squeeze.

She can grow to like this loathing; this disgust; this revolt and greed.

But the longer she stares into Scar's hard eyes, the more her thoughts spiral out of control, and the more time her conscious has to warn her that this is something she will regret forever and ever.

And, as Ed screams himself hoarse for her to put the gun down, she cannot because she is too deeply set in the vengeance that has clutched her heart. It is painful, as a thousand scenarios as to how her parents died vanish in one second, and a single film begins to roll in her head: her parents helping Scar, Scar pulling his hand back and grabbing their skulls, imploding their heads. The bloody sprays like spring rain as they fall limp on the filthy ground and she is shaking so terribly because it hurts _so fucking much _that she cannot stand it.

She is even more determined to pull the trigger on behalf of her dead parents when he does not react to the sudden trickle of tears but rather accepts this situation and says she has every right to shoot him.

_(You're goddamn fucking right I deserve to kill you)_

She has the will to shoot him and let him bleed to death and watch him gape and writhe but she thinks that if she does pull the trigger – if she does fall from grace – she would shoot him again and again and again like a _monster_. Because if she pulled the first shot, why can she not pull the second shot? Or the third shot?

What difference would it make if she mutilated or let him die slowly? She would still be a murderer.

Suddenly, there is a shift in his eyes. They become sullen and dull and _understanding _and Winry feels the insane, childish, urge to stand and scream: "you don't understand anything, you monster!!" But this thought carries along its own string of uncertainty.

Who is she, the woman about to pull the trigger, to call him, a mass murderer, a monster when she herself is contemplating such actions?

It is this thought and Ed's "DON'T DO IT!!" that snaps her out of her thirsty yearn for revenge and leaves her in a shallow pit of despair.

Her hold on the gun in her hand, as it is aimed at Scar and as she drowns out Ed and Al's shouts of panic, shakes and she no longer thinks she is strong enough to carry the heavy chains of murder. She thinks she is a weakling, a coward, a fool, but she does not remove her trembling finger from the trigger.

Maybe she will regain her confidence, maybe she will actually pull the trigger and feel relief if she waits for this small moment of insecurity to pass. But somehow she knows that if she _does _kill, she'll only want more and feel incomplete.

She doesn't know which is worse: knowing he killed her parents and letting him get out alive or knowing he killed her parents and killing _him _to avenge them.

Both options are like a kick in the stomach.

Ed keeps appearing in her line of vision, terrified gold eyes boring into her own for moments that last life-times. She does not understand why he is so afraid but as her body shakes badly she realizes she is afraid for her own innocence and that Ed has every right to be scared for her because she is truly considering pulling this trigger (_you're a monster if you do it) _and killing him.

(_you're no better than _him_ if you do it...)_

The pain is as suffocating as it is relieving. She knows who killed her parents and her body has reacted as she had expected it to. But her emotional reaction was nothing as she has wondered it to be. It is reluctant and fierce and hurt and vulnerable and Winry knows that she can just shut down and let her body take reign as her emotions are making her stomach roll and breathing hard...

She never stops staring into Scar's ready eyes throughout the entire ordeal. She knows that she is just riling him up for nothing because in reality she has no heart to really kill him; no matter how much righteousness (_Kill him...avenge your parents!... why won't you do it? He killed them; you kill him...) _her mind throws at her.

Because if she kills him, she'll be a monster.

And she cannot bear the thought of being a monster that has the capability to take away a person just like Scar took away the two most important people in her life.

_Equivalent Exchange, right? Do it._

Her breath hitches.

Scar sneers at her and he lunges with his arm crackling with blue energy, ready to explode her own skull and spray a shower of blood just as she had envisioned happened to her parents...

_(Kill him! What are you waiting for?! DO IT BEFORE HE KILLS _YOU_!!)_

But it is _not_ equivalent exchange because two people died and one person will not make two right and it is this logic that keeps her frozen still enough for Ed to suddenly land in front of her and block her of Scar's destructive arm.

There is a moment where she feels this incomprehensible terror course through her at the thought of Ed becoming another number in this mans bloody reign and she shifts to grab his arm, as if to push him away, only Scar pauses and stares at them both, eyes trailing shakily over their position, to her panicked wonderment, and it is this time that Alphonse uses wisely to send him a powerful kick that has him flying into a nearby wall.

_(You're a murder)_

But she did not pull the trigger.

_(You were going to...)_

But she did _not._

_Do I want to become a murder? _She thinks as Ed speaks to her and she responds absently, immersed in her deceptive thoughts. _Do I want to become like...like _him_? A monster?_

No.

She does not.

Her parents died honorably by, ironically, the hands of a coward, but she thinks that if she had pulled that trigger, as Ed gently pries her fingers off the gun, then she would be no better than the man who took their lives in the first place. And if she were to pull that trigger, then she would also have the capability to kill Ed just as Scar had been intent on doing a few seconds ago.

It is this thought that breaks her the most; that tears her up inside as she realizes with horror what she had been about to do if not for Edward's quick reaction and his caring gold eyes that stalled her enough to think things through with finer detail.

And when she finally _does_ release that wail of anguish, she clings to Ed, who is holding her elbow so tightly it is comforting as it helps her forget the mistake she had almost committed.

"T-Thank you," she whispers, sobbing so hard she thinks that perhaps the words came out as nothing but pitiful noises but she feels his grip tighten and she knows he heard her.


	18. Lime

_**Color Theorem**_

_**Summary: **_For someone who became a State Alchemist at the age of twelve, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemist one and only golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
__**Author's Note: **I was listening to _Liar by Dragonette_ when I wrote this, which somehow prompted me to write something... lemon-y (listen to it, it rocks!). It's also where I got the beginning line from, though I tweaked it to fit my story. I was just having so much fun with a drunken Winry and flustered Ed that I couldn't help but to add some sexual tension between them._

_And a rub or two ;)_

_**PLEASE REVIEW!!**_

_**Disclaimer: **If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, the following would frequently happen! xD_

**NOTE**_**: **This does rise up to the rating of **M **for **MATURE. **If you do not read adult-related situations then I suggest you stop now while you're ahead. I will not put warnings since that disrupts the flow of the story._

* * *

**018_: Lime_**

* * *

She couldn't touch him but she could nearly _feel _him, holding her own waist and twirling her around the dance room. The way he moved, the twitch of his lips as that girl said something, and just the way he held her made her own skin crawl with rage.

Her hands tightened around her knee's and she crossed her legs as a means to prevent some sort of humiliating accident – like walking up to the girl and punching her lights out - from occurring. A terrible kind of anticipation brewed within her as she sat lonesome in the corner, watching her glass of champagne bubble.

Brigadier General Roy Mustang was a few tables away, sitting with a flock of women surrounding him, smoothly answering every dumb question thrown at him.

She could see Riza Hawkeye standing by the back exit of the ballroom like a guard, lavish in an ink black dress that hugged her athletic figure excellently; holding onto the side of her right thigh where Winry was sure she kept a holster fitted with a gun. She turned her eyes to Mustang, who only continued his chat with a busty blond.

Winry could easily relate to her friend's situation as she drained a glass and poured herself some more champagne.

She was unable to resist the urge to flick her eyes to Edward and the mystery girl, who had long, straight, black hair and soft features. They were dancing in the middle of the floor, their first dance, and looked as if they were having fun. Ed would say something so boyishly awkward that it was cute, no doubt, and she would laugh, pressing closer and closer to him with every tinkling laugh.

It made her sick with anger.

Winry sat in a cloud of her own gloom, sending resenting looks at the pair, who continued to wonder the room with every string played. She leaned back in the chair eventually, after they had stopped and another woman asked Ed out, deciding she didn't care what everyone else thought of her and had started to drain glasses of the bitter liquid every few minutes.

She was on her sixth glass.

She wasn't feeling the least bit lightheaded, to her chagrin.

She decided that three more drinks should do the trick and began to count down the glasses.

Somewhere during this, more women had decided it would be splendid to dance with Edward Elric, who accepted every offer without a fight, the bastard.

She was on her ninth glass when she started feeling the effects but drained two more just in case.

She supposed that was what made her easily accept the requests from the men that abounded her. She saw a blur of golden beside her as a man stepped up quickly and asked for her hand to dance. She took it without a second glance at the strange gold color she had seen.

But it was funny – hilarious even – how she desperately wished that Edward would show an ounce of disgruntlement! She hoped he'd at least scowl or send the man she danced with nasty looks or something cliche like that.

He seemed oblivious to her attempts to grab his attention. But somehow, as she blinked to clear her vision, this man did not seem like Ed: the one she was looking at feet away. He was, for one, too _short, _dare she say, to be Edward. Then she noticed, with more clarity, that this man's hair was not golden but sandy blond; a darker alternative of the elder Elric's hair color.

_Oh._

She felt stupid, as the stranger twirled her around and around, when she noticed she had been staring at the wrong guy the whole time. She shook it off with a light blush and searched for the man she had wanted to dance with in the first place.

To her surprise, he was sitting where she had been, staring at her with a deep scowl.

She noticed the same girl with the black hair, who was now in the arms of another, glance at him repeatedly before glancing at her as well.

She looked miffed.

Winry felt kind of smug.

It was this thought process that got her in trouble in the first place, she decided later on, when she was nice and sober, as she felt the man holding her lower his hand onto her bottom.

She blinked once, twice, three times and stopped altogether when she felt him _grope _her some two times.

A vein popped on her temple.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She hissed, voice slurring badly on every other word. He looked annoyed but said nothing, trying to get her to dance again. She slapped his hand away. "Oi, I asked you question, dumbass!" She continued, shoving him away from her and setting her hands on her hips.

"Ah," the stranger murmured, holding his hands up in peace. "Would you mind keeping your voice down? People are starting to look..."

"Let 'em look!" she shouted. "I want you to apologize to me." She crossed her arms and tapped her heeled feet. "Now, mister! You know exactly what you did!"

"Calm down! Look, let's go have a seat, shall we? You're not right in the head at the moment."

She stared at him and, to her dull interest, she noticed many pairs had stopped their conversations to watch. She noticed Riza frown and Roy raise a brow. She didn't dare turn to check Ed's reaction.

"... Did you just call me crazy?" she asked, slowly, clearly.

"What? No! Of course not! You're just... well, drunk."

"Oh! Oh, so that gives you a right to grab my ass, huh? I'm slightly drunk, you moron, not numb from the waist down!" she huffed and heard several bursts of laughter from around her.

"I didn't touch you like that..." he replied, nervously. More than half the room was staring at them now.

"Look," she slurred this time, stepping closer and poking him in the chest. "Just say you're sorry and we can forget this ever happened, al'ight?"

"Actually, how about we—"

"You got a hearing problem, dumbass?" Winry growled, grabbing his tie and shoving him up close to her face. Despite the wave of gasps, she felt that the fact that he had groped her was enough for her to make such a scene. He had no right to inappropriately touch her without her permission! "I said, apologize!"

"Win—"

"Ugh, retarded people like you _do_ exist in this world!" she shrieked, throwing her hands up in the air. She felt her ankle give and she stumbled back into a broad chest. "What the—Ed?" She blinked, squinting her eyes at his grave expression.

"Hey, I believe she said you should apologize," he said instead, staring at the man with dark eyes. "She's waiting."

"Yeah, I'm waiting!" Winry repeated, crossing her arms and leaning back on Ed, who didn't seem to mind as he burned his golden eyes into the man's anxious black ones.

"Alright, alright! I apologize! Yeesh! Sorry!" He said, rushed. By this time, everyone was looking at them. She dimly noticed Riza had shook her head in amusement and Sergeant Fuery was stifling his laughter with his palm.

"Good!" She felt her balance waver. "Was that so hard? No, it wasn't. That took five fucking minutes! You know, I'll never get those minutes back! Thank you very much for wasting my time!" Winry felt her head so light and fuzzy, words spilling from her mouth like water. Her hands were like jell-o, unpredictable and wobbly, and using Ed as a human wall was working out well for the inebriated blond, for it offered balance.

Behind her, she felt Ed chuckle richly. It was a sound that sent trembles of excitement coursing up her spine.

"Whoa," she said, in delirious awe, loving how the vibrations made her toes curl. "Do it again..."

"C'mon, Winry." She felt rather than saw Ed steer her towards the door. "We're getting out of here before you cause more ruckus. You're drunk."

"Am not," she replied gruffly.

"You are so," he said, wry smile on his face. "Now shut up and follow me."

"I will not! I—I'm not drunk, you freakin' alchemist!" Winry nearly toppled over when her foot caught on the leg of a chair, and she was grateful Ed was there to catch her.

"Not drunk my foot," she heard Ed's smug voice ring from above her.

She was silent for a moment. "Alright, alright, I'll give," she mumbled. She nearly tripped over the threshold of the entry and laughed when Ed caught her yet again, adding another "you're _really_ wasted" comment that made her laugh harder.

"I ain't drunk!" she said once more, temporarily forgetting she had admitted defeat moments ago.

"You're drunk, Winry! You can barely walk straight!" Ed was guiding her by her waist, leading her to the vehicle Mustang had brought them in.

She stopped and clumsily pushed him away. "I'll prove it to you, you walking freak-show!" She growled, frowning as she stood as straight as possible. Her body wouldn't react in time with what she wanted. "Watch!" She held her hands out to balance herself.

_One foot, second foot. One foot, second foot, one—one foot—oh crap! _Winry squealed as she teetered to the right, then left, then right again. She managed to stabilize herself, as Ed burst out laughing, and she had the right mind to blush at his laughter.

"You know," she scowled, words still slurred. "Just because you're hot—that's the only reason I'm letting you win!"

That sobered him up in record time.

He stared at her, bewildered. "W...what?"

"I said," she stretched the last word, "just 'cause you're hot, I'll give you this one!" She spun on her heel and clutched her skull when all it did was make her mind fuzzier. It felt as if her brain had grown wings and decided to venture out of her head for a while...

Ed was beside her in an instant, holding her upright. "I'm sorry, I don't think I _heard_ you." She could hear a smirk in those words.

"Well, then, you're deaf. All that alchemy's finally clogged your ears up!"

"You're right, you're right, whatever! Now, repeat it?"

"You're de—"

"No, the other thing!"

"Alchemy's clogged—"

"No, the thing before that!" Ed growled.

Winry scratched her cheek. "I'll give you this one?"

"The _other _thing!" he said exasperatedly.

"You're hot?"

"Yes, that!"

"Oh, yeah, you're totally hot," Winry grinned dreamily, waving her wrist at him dismissively. "Everyone know's that..."

"What do you mean by 'everyone'?"

"Yeah, like that bitch with the black hair you were dancing with?" she started walking – or trying to – again. "She digs you."

"She does?"

"Yep," Winry chirped, nonchalantly, deadly calm lacing her next words: "But if she keeps bugging ya', I'm going to have to intervene. Again."

"Again?" Ed was sounding more and more interested as their conversation progressed.

"Lot's of girls try to talk to you, Ed," Winry drawled in a voice that suggested it was obvious. "They come to me since I've known you since we were in diapers and I beat the shit out of them everytime!" She grinned, airily.

"What—why?!" he squawked, surprised by the possessiveness in her eyes.

"'Cause you're not for rent_," _Winry hissed, clutching the hood of the car and throwing the door open. She felt Ed freeze behind her as she crawled inside. "There's a reason why I put the Rockbell trademark on your _hand, _dummy." She bumped her head on the window inside the vehicle and groaned when it resonated in her head. It hardly hurt but it did make her head spin heavily. Did she bump into the window that hard?

"You... you... you _branded me_?!" He sounded scandalized, which made Winry burst into giggles.

"Nooo, stupid," she giggled, holding her head. She glanced at Ed, who was leaning down to glance at her, red dusting each cheek. "I _have _to put the Rockbell logo on my automail... I just chose the most obvious place, duh: your hand. Girls will see it and walk away, 'cause they sort of already know I'll find them and probably hurt them." Winry slumped in her seat, holding her head, which had started hurting even more now. "Ow..."

Ed, by now, was inside the vehicle, avoiding her gaze as he shut the door beside him. Winry decided it was because he was looking for Riza to come and drive them, since both had had their fair share of drinks. She supposed she had drunk more than Ed and blamed it solely on her grandmother, who had stashes of booze hidden within the workshop.

Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back, she'd say.

She saw Ed had lifted his sleeve, taken off his gloves, and touch the two bells and wrap-around ribbon which made up the Rockbell Automail logo. He glanced up at her and went bright red from the tip of his ears to the curve of his neck before looking away.

"What's wrong?" Winry asked, concernedly. Was he ill? She lifted her legs and tucked them in, so as she was sitting on them, and leaned over to Ed, pressing a hand against his forehead. Edward yelped and backed away to the window, draping her across of him as she tried to regain her balance. To make matters worse, her coordination was off because of the quantity of alcohol she had consumed, so she only smashed her face into his chest because of the abrupt movements.

"Oww! What the—"

"Get off, Winry!"

In an effort to lift Winry off of him, Ed had rose his right leg to give her a gentle push back but she had grabbed onto it and snapped it down across the seats, making him resist a hiss of pain when it stretched out a wrong nerve. To ease the pain, Ed had stretched out his other leg but ended up placing it sidelong to his right leg, which made Winry decided to simply lie on him as her dress snagged under him.

Great. He was flustered enough with her blunt honesty – this was just begging to get nasty.

"Get the hell off, Winry!" he snapped, scowling when the nerve in his right leg burned. He was sore from his previous mission and her shoving his knee down had only made it worse. It was bad enough he had pulled a muscle in that particular leg before, he didn't need her stretching out the nerve again.

"Ouch, _Ed_!" Winry lifted her head, bringing her hand up to rub the tip of her nose. She used her free hand to prop herself up. She was even with his face. She frowned when the red in his face only increased. He seemed to have noticed their position. "What's the matter with you? Why're you so skittish today? Did Al threaten to take away your platform boots or something?" She snickered at her own joke, which, for a moment, brought Ed out of his embarrassed mood enough to send her a glare.

"What was that, you drunk?"

"I'm not _drunk_! I'm just _tipsy_!"

Ed scoffed and she pushed herself up against his body when she tried to pull her dress down. He froze and she felt both his hands grip the sides of her arm immediately.

"Winry, get off. I'm serious."

"I can't." She straddled his waist and glanced behind her. There was not enough room, with her erratic movements, to sit back straight again. Ed was going to have to make the first move, she decided airily. "You stand up first!"

"Idiot! You're on _top_ of _me_! You get off!"

This seemed to make some sense to the girl and she pressed a palm into his chest, sitting up until she was erect on his lap. This only proved to make Ed blush more profusely.

"Not like that! Not like that!" Ed rushed. "Ugh, get _off_, Winry!"

"Hold up! Jeez, I'm going! I'm going!" Winry grabbed part of her knee-length dress and pulled the hem out from under her. The dress fluttered up over her chest and she heard Ed gasp in shock as she quickly pulled it back down.

"Wai', what happen'?"

He had his eyes covered with both his hands. He was peeking through one, though. "WINRY, GET THE FUCK OFF _NOW_!!"

It was then she felt something hard beneath her, pressing up against something that made her squirm. The sensation was foreign but delightful and she had half a mind to rub up against it some more. She gave into this urge uncharacteristically, the alcohol in her system lulling her into a false sense of security, and shifted her hips against him one more time.

When she did, it elicited a wave of pleasure that made her breathe out a purr. When she opened her eyes, the ripple of pleasure shooting through her system, Edward had a hand covering his mouth, face scarlet, and he was staring at her with huge eyes. Winry only frowned, letting her head loll to the side, and rotated her hips against him once more for experimentation.

Another, louder, mewl crawled up her throat, as a stronger shiver of pleasure rushed through her. She felt her abdomen pool with desire.

He was biting his metal finger now.

An idea dawned to the young mechanic. She snapped her fingers and smiled. "Oh, Ed, you're pocket watch is what's bothering me!" Odd, how a watch could cause her such pleasure. "Here, I'll move it for you." She lifted herself up slightly to reach down when a metal hand grasped her hand in panic.

"NO! No! I-I'll do it. Just... just hold still, alright?" Ed said, desperately.

Winry eyed him suspiciously but conceded. She bounced back and heard a drawn out, throaty, moan escape the alchemist. She froze along with Ed, who, in a matter of seconds, had dumped her off of him and to the cramped foot-space below unceremoniously. She wrinkled her nose as the dirt from the floor stuck to her skin.

"What... was that?" Winry asked, slowly, staring at Ed, who had his leg crossed awkwardly and was looking away from her.

"N...nothing."

"No, seriously, I've never heard that before."

"Good. You shouldn't." There was a slice of anger in his tone, which indicated she had perhaps hit a nerve?

"But what was it?"

"Nothing, just drop it!" Ed pulled the door open slid out of the seat. For a second, Winry saw something bulge within his pants, which roused a thought in her mind. But she had drunken too much and she was fuzzy on what that particular word was.

Stone on?

Rock hard?

Winry shook her head and decided to come back to this thought later, when she was sober and less prone to doing idiotic things. She had a feeling, as the fuzziness and lightheaded wore off, that what she had done was particularly stupid.

"Come on, Ed!" Winry pouted. "You never tell me anything anymore!"

"What the—what does that have to do with this!?"

"Everything!" She cried. "You don't tell me anything! It's like I'm not important enough anymore! I hate it!" Immediately, she vulnerability overcome her. This was a topic she never spoke of, not to her grandmother or friends, and much less to her love interest. The impulse to say it had simply arose and she had given into it without a second thought. She wondered if this was why her granny had told her drinking was bad; if this was why she'd grimaced and said alchohal made you do stupid, stupid things.

She felt tears accumulate in her eyes at her stupidity. Why did she say that? Edward did not need to be burdened with this! He had enough rocks on his back – he needn't any more. These thoughts only made her tears start to dribble down her cheeks and she sniffled when her nose got runny.

"Are you _crying_!?" came Ed's incredulous voice and he poked his head back into the car.

"No," she replied, softly. "I'm not."

She sat straight and dropped her head back against the head rest, closing her eyes and hoping the dark of the automobile was enough to hide the streak of tears.

She heard shifting and felt Ed sit beside her once more, closing the door again. She could feel the high wear down, the desire in her stomach begin fade, and the emotional instability slowly right itself.

Her head was her main priority now – it was throbbing with pain like crazy.

"Sorry."

She opened her eyes. "What?"

"I said, sorry." Ed wasn't looking at her. "It was a moan."

Winry blinked some few times and furrowed her brows. "Pardon? What?"

"A moan!" he growled, crossing his arms and scowling heavily. "A moan, alright, a moan! It happens to males and females when they are sexually stimulated! There, you happy now?"

She digested this information and the word she had trying to remember minutes ago came flying to her with brute speed. "Hard on!" she murmured.

"What!?" Ed's head snapped to her, eyes wide.

"I said, hard on. That was a the word I was trying to remember!" Winry then, in that sense of soberness, realized something that made her face heat up a brilliant maroon. She slapped a hand over her eyes, groaning loudly at what she had done. "Holy Lord, I am _so _sorry! I didn't mean to – I swear! I didn't! I just wanted to know what made me feel – oh, nothing! I'm sorry! That was awful of me! How could I—?"

She was sitting back now, legs drawn up, and covering her face with her hands.

_What did you do, Winry?! _She screamed inside her head, aghast at her actions. _You rubbed up against his... his.. AHHH!!_

Her face seemingly got brighter with every thought.

"I-It's alright! I mean, it felt good—NO, WAIT, I DIDN'T MEAN THAT!" It was Ed's turn to turn bright red, as Winry lifted her face out of her palms. She smiled lightly, as her friend tried to explain himself. "I mean, you were inebriated! You didn't know what you were doing! Yeah, you were drunk! It's not your fault!"

"Felt good?!" she repeated as she chuckled, clutching her head when Edward rambled mindlessly in an attempt to save his hide and her chuckles convertd into laughs. He stopped after a few seconds, as her laughter got louder. Her stomach burned and her cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so much.

Soon, Edward was also chuckling – cheeks pink, gaze outside to hide his embarrassment. Her laughter dimmed along with his chuckles and soon they were in a comfortable silence.

Winry decided, as she caught a glance of Riza, who was dragging Roy beside her by the ears, that a dapple of honesty wouldn't hurt; even if Ed's confession had been purely accidental.

"Hey, Ed?" she said softly, as the two military superiors came closer.

"Hm?" He grunted, still looking away from her. She noticed that his body was aimed farthest away from her and he was crossing his leg stiffly over the other.

"It wasn't so bad" she said, in a small voice. "I... I felt the same thing so you shouldn't be so embarassed."

His head snapped to her, mouth dropping to answer her small confession, when two doors in front of them were thrown open and Roy was flung into the passengers seat. Riza soon entered the vehicle.

"So, Full Metal, how was the gala?" Roy asked, somewhat grudgingly.

"Fine." He replied, voice tight. "Just fine."

"You got to dance with a few ladies, I see," Roy smirked. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Ed scowled. "They wouldn't stop asking and besides _you _were the one who told me to accept every dance I was offered or else it'll make your sorry ass look bad and then you'd assign me more pointless missions!" He steamed, sending him dark glares. "This is all _your_ fault!"

"I don't remember saying such a thing," Roy replied nonchalantly, ignoring the young alchemists indignant roars of objection. "Miss Rockbell, trouble on the dance floor?" He was looking at her through the rear view mirror. Riza looked at her briefly.

"It was fine," she said softly, holding her head. It hurt less now but it was still uncomfortable. "I shouldn't have done that... I'm sorry Brigadier Mustang! I probably made you look bad!"

"It's quite alright," Roy said good naturedly. "A man should never take advantage of a defenseless woman – you had every right to cause a scene!"

Ed snorted. "Hypocrite."

Winry, however, stared hard at the man. "... Are you calling me weak, sir?"

There was a tense silence.

"No, of course not!" Roy cleared his throat. "You were just inebriated – you're reflexes were slowed and your thinking process hampered by the amounts of alcohol you... consumed."

Winry scowled but gave in.

There was a pregnant pause before Ed pipped up again.

"Yeah, right, you were wasted outta' you're _mind_! Granny been teaching you how to hold your liquor, Win?" he taunted. "Or have you been _sneaking _in beer?!" He accused, wickedly.

"Shuddup, don't talk about things you don't know, you shrimp!"

"OI! WHO'RE YOU CALLING ULTRA-SHORT WATER FLEA, YOU AUTOMAIL _DRUNKY_?!"

And thus began another loud squabble between friends, Riza and Roy shaking their heads at their antics. But as they got closer, close enough to where Edward's flesh hand landed upon her own, Winry paused her insult to remove it only to have Ed press on it harder, sending her a mischievous smirk in the process.

Winry managed a small grin as they continued on, fingers curling around his hand.


	19. Gold, Partner to Black

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who became a State Alchemist at the age of twelve, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple Ed and Winry!  
_**Authors Note: **_This ones pretty long because I got carried away with it. Again. So much for a one shot collection lol It's a partner fic to the _Black _chapter in this collection. Someone requested a follow-up on what happened and I agreed since, well, why not? And the German for this fiction... I don't know German; I used phrases that would fit with the situation which I found on the internet while looking up World War II XD_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Kimblee would blow up cockroaches._

**Dedication_: Kermitty168, because her reviews boost my enthusiasm for this collection! I'm even contemplating posting up one of my many Ed/Win stories I've been creating over the weeks. Thanks :3_**

* * *

**019: _Gold_**

* * *

The gravel is moist and rough under her hands. Her knee's hurt from having landed callously upon the abrasive terrain and she holds no memories as to how she is there and why. But soon they all come crashing back to her in the form of crooked grins and terrified screams. Soon she is screaming, too, but she quickly slaps a hand over her mouth to quiet the howls.

The air is a mixture of machinery and pollution – a concoction that makes her stomach roll and her nose itch.

It is dark and it is cold where she is, surrounded by brick and trash. There is an opening up ahead and she shakily stumbles toward the lighter darkness, reaching the sidewalk and staggering back when a gust of arctic wind chills her to the bone.

She feels disoriented as she takes in the structures concealed by darkness. The closer she gets to them, the more she feels fear fester within her as she does not recognize the architecture. They are different and sculpted differently and as she touches a building wall, it feels differently, too. The material is heavy and strong and thick and she feels an overwhelming sense of loss as she digs her nails into the stone.

She jumps when she hears footsteps behind her and turns, hands ready to defend herself, when a boy dressed in odd attire walks into the dim moonlight and sends her a curious look. He walks past her, holding some tattered books underneath his arm and huddling in his brown coat as the bitter autumn air sweeps over him.

"H-Hey!" she calls, voice hoarse from screaming. The boy stops and turns, cocking his head.

"Ja?" the man responds, voice thick and heavily accentuated.  
_("Yes?")_

"Where am I? Do you the name of this city?" She asks, hope vaporizing when the man merely frowns.

"Entschuldigen Sie mich?" he says; then, with uncertainty: "Verstehen Sie mich?" fully turning around to face her.  
("_Excuse me?")_ ("_Do you understand me?")_

She is rooted to the spot as she realizes that she does not understand this language and is floored when she further realizes that she has never, ever, heard it before in her entire life. She is dead sure that it could not be Xingese or Aerugian or even Cretian as she had had some patients speak to her in such tongue.

"Sorry to bother you," she murmurs, shaking her head at the boy, who says something else and points to her person. He looks concerned and she slowly looks down at herself to see bloody knees and ripped up clothing. Her skin has a corpse-white look as the air continues to wrap around her and she waves the boy away quickly, returning to the shadows where she now believes she belongs.

She slumps against the wall, knocking her head back and breathing out a cloud of white. It is very cold and she fears falling asleep in such harsh weather. She fears never waking up and never seeing Edward and Alphonse again and it is this thought that keeps her awake the rest of the night while she wonders the empty streets of this alien city.

When it is dawn, people begin to awaken and Winry has stolen some clothes hanging from lines to dry for the night. She has on a pair of brown pants that are loose on her and a long-sleeved, button up, shirt. It is stiff and feels uncomfortable but she is warmer than she has ever been in her skirt and white tank top. She has kept her boots and lugs around her toolbox protectively in front of her.

By noon, she is in awe to everything she sees. The civilians of this city are different than anything she has seen and the language intrigues her greatly. It is a harsh language and often she finds herself thinking that people are fighting because of such fierce accentuation.

"NEIN! NEIN!" A police man calls from beside her, startling her. He is waving at the traffic that has plugged up the street and she trails her eyes upon the car crash that has two men arguing heatedly. The police man is desperate to make the other cars maneuver around the accident as he shouts at the men who have now begun to shove each other in challenge.

Winry walks slowly as she watches, emotion knotting in her stomach as she takes in the violent nature of this brand new world. She bumps into a burly man and quickly apologizes, bowing and moving away. But she freeze when she see's a mirror-image of Sig Curtis.

_Could it...?_

"Pardon me," he says, in a tongue she can understand. She is so shocked all she does is gape and the man frowns. "Are you alright there, girl?"

_No, it can't be..._

"How can I.. understand you?" Winry whispers, and the man laughs strongly.

"Well, it might be because we both speak English," the man continues to laugh. "You're an odd one."

But she does not find this situation amusing. She is still trying to piece together why she could understand him and why the accent which coats his words sounds so foreign. He says something else, a word she definitely does not understand, and begins to leave when she reaches out to stop him.

"Where am I?"

The man looks more concerned now. "Are you sure you're alright? You're in Berlin, Germany. Do you need to go to a—"

"Sid!" A voice calls from behind him and Winry is even more astounded when she see it is Izumi Curtis. The woman walks up to him with a deep-set scowl and mutters something to him in German, to which he responds with the same harsh accent.

Winry is left standing in front of them awkwardly, as the woman raises her brows at her clothing.

"Why are you wearing male clothing?" she asks, annoyed. "Do you have a vision problem or something? You look hideous!"

Winry is insulted but as she looks at the woman's simple yet elegant dress she is more frightened than embarrassed. In her world, this would be appropriate but in this world it seems it is not.

"This is Germany, right?" Winry asks instead. She feels relief as she does fear as thoughts of reuniting with Ed are strong against the thoughts of never finding him at all. This is the city they landed, why would Roy Mustang lie to her, right?

_I hope he didn't..._

"Yes, it is. My husband tells me you're bonkers, is that true?" The man is appalled by his wife's bluntness and tries to amend but Winry merely waves him off.

"I'm not crazy I just..." she hesitates. What can she tell this woman? She might be a lookalike from the infamous Izumi Curtis but Winry has a feeling that, by the way this woman looks so intrigued, she is not the same Izumi Curtis she knows. Because Izumi would never give that penetrating look of interest nor would she question her so rudely or comment on her clothing. Izumi Curtis had more mannerism than her.

She was just _slightly_too honest with her words, one thing this woman has in common with Izumi.

"I woke up and I don't remember where I am," she lies effectively and the woman's curious expression melts into concern. "I-I don't remember... much of anything actually..."

"Do you remember your name?"

"No," she decides to lie again.

It is then that Winry is told her name is Isumi Kurtis and her husband is called Sid Kurtis. They are travelers from London, England and have visited Germany many times before during their trips across Europe. Winry discovers that they are heading to Munich to handle some "important business" and offer to take her there, too, where they would send her to local authorities as Izumi dislikes the Berlin Officers for a reason she refuses to tell Winry.

"I have to find someone. I remember that much," Winry says after a while and Isumi frowns. "But I don't know where he is. All I know is that he land—traveled to Germany but I've lost contact with him since..."

"Do you remember his name? Perhaps I could help you find him," she offers, as her husband goes ahead to hail down a taxi to take them both to the train station.

"His name is..." she hesitates but decides she will have to trust her as she knows no one else. She pretends to struggle to remember, even though she is sure she could never, ever, forget this mans name. "Edward Elric."

The woman freezes and stares at her with wide, shocked, eyes that quickly revert back to a cool, calculating, gaze. Winry is hopeful that perhaps she knows him and is only crushed when Isumi says: "Sorry, but I've never heard of him. I can ask around when we arrive to Munich, to see if anyone has heard of him, if it helps."

"Thanks," is all Winry says and she follows Isumi into the taxi Sid managed to nab.

The next 7 hours are spent in a train, which rattles a lot and is very empty. The scenery rushes past her at breakneck speed as Winry relaxes in the seat, Sid's snores and Isumi's hums background noise as she reminisces on the times where she would be exactly like she is in that moment; only she would be heading to Central to meet up with the brothers and here she is heading to a place called Munich to be sent away to the local police.

Winry decides that, once they arrive in Munich, she will make herself scarce when they're not looking and track down the Elric brothers herself; although she is at a disadvantage since she does not know the language. But she decides that, since Sid was kind enough to buy her a two-way passage, she can always head back to Berlin and continue her search there if she comes up empty in Munich.

Munich is even more magnificent than Berlin, Winry decides, as she admires the antique build of the city. But there is a lot of police men walking around bearing arms and Winry is uncomfortable with the insignia on their arm Isumi says is called a "swastika". Winry is even more appalled when she sees that many of the buildings deeper into the city have been war-ravaged and literally blown up and crumbling. She is horrified when Isumi says that recent bombings have been dropped but assures her that they have stopped.

When she hears "bombing" she automatically thinks of Zolf J. Kimblee and his deranged grin and sadistic gaze and is thrown into a state of panic she tries to conceal by looking out the window of the taxi Sid hailed down.

When the car stops, Winry is too scared to go outside although Isumi and Sid have already gotten out. She instead peeks her head out. "Is this the police department?"

"Nope," Isumi says shortly. "This is the place I have business in."

Winry feels that knot in her stomach become tighter. She feels the familiar rush of adrenaline pour through her veins when she looks at the beaten, fire-licked, building in front of her.

"I-I thought you were going to take me to the police station," she says, swallowing thickly.

Isumi merely laughs. "Relax, darling, you look like I am about to murder you!"

_You can, _she thinks, _it's not like I have family here or-or any papers... No one knows I even exist. _This realization strikes her like a brick and she is physically shaken by the discovery. She hates the fact that she knows no one and how this Isumi and Sid _aren't _Izumi and Sig and they could very well be murderers in disguise here to take her apart like Barry The Chopper had once tried to do.

Maybe they'll finish the job this time, too.

It is a parallel world.

"Hey, are you alright?" Isumi asks concernedly, placing a palm on her shoulder and setting her jaw tight when Winry flinches back.

"J-Just... I'm fine," Winry rasps out. "I was just remembering something, that's all."

"Oh, is your memory coming back?" Sid says, sounding hopeful.

"I guess," Winry shrugs and allows Isumi to pry her out of the car. Winry feels the two-way ticket weigh a ton in her pocket and she grips the strap of her toolbox tightly. She can always go back... it is this thought that comforts her as the taxi leaves a trail of dust in its wake.

"What you got there?" Isumi points to her toolbox. "I've been wondering for a while now why you have a toolkit with you."

"Oh, it's, er—my fathers," Winry lies and Isumi smirks.

"I thought you didn't remember anything." she says slyly, making Winry pale.

"I-I don't—I mean—it's not—"

Isumi laughs and claps a hand on her shoulder. "I told you, darling, _relax. _You really need a drink of wine, we will not hurt you." And she does not pry anymore into why Winry lied and she is grateful for that as they march up the steps of the building and knock three times on its raggedy-looking door.

"Who is it?" a rough voice responds, sliding back a small window and staring at them with hardened eyes.

"I'm here to visit the pipsqueak," Isumi says, voice like blades. "I have someone here who is searching for him. It is a girl. Tell him that."

"Boss ain't seeing anyone today," the man replies, making Isumi grind her teeth.

"I said, go get him. It's important," Isumi insists.

"I'm sorry, but like I said, Boss ain't seeing anyone today so you can come back later!" The man shouts, making Winry take a step back. He sounds very mad.

"Fuck what he says!" Isumi blows up and strikes a kick upon the door, making it crack. Winry thinks that maybe Izumi and Isumi aren't so different after all. "GO GET HIM YOU BLASTED FOOL!"

The window shuts with a click and the door remains closed. Winry shifts her weight and tightens the black coat Isumi loaned her for the time-being closer against her skinny frame.

"I think they're not going to let us inside. Maybe we should just go?" Winry laughs nervously.

"Like bloody hell am I leaving when I specifically told E—him that I'd be here today!" Isumi steams, covering up her mistake. They remain by the door for another minute before Isumi growls in frustration. "Fine!" she spits. "If that ass wants the plans he can go retrieve them in England! Annoying runt, making me come out here for nothing!" Isumi stomps back down and Sid follows, sighing as he tries to calm his raving wife.

Winry stays by the door for a few moments before following Isumi but slips on the second-to-last step and lands on her rear end painfully.

"Ouch!" She hisses, as Isumi bursts out laughing and Sid scolds her on her lack-of-discretion. Winry pulls off her heavy toolbox and rubs her aching bottom, groaning as she tries to stand up. These steps were built tougher than the ones in Central, too...was everything built better here than in Amestris?

She doubts it.

Suddenly, she hears the door open behind her and a sharp intake of breath but Winry is too pained to really turn. She rubs her bottom one last time and sends Isumi a dark look.

"That wasn't very nice! I didn't laugh at you when you tripped in the train!" Winry shouts.

"I didn't trip, I merely stumbled," Isumi scoffs.

Winry snorts.

Isumi is grinning widely now. "Who're you looking for again?"

Winry furrows her brows, cracking her back as she stands straight. She picks up her toolbox as she speaks. "Edward Elric, why?"

"'Because I think I found him." Isumi laughs heartily and Winry is so stunned she does not react for a moment. But then she is turning and staring into equally shocked golden eyes and she is astounded by how little he has changed since she has last seen him. The determined, defiant, sparkle is still there, a little dulled, and though he has matured physically she could still see the telltale signs of stubborn immaturity retained in the way he holds himself. But she can see that he is no longer the eighteen year old she had once spoken to all those years ago but rather a built, _tall, _twenty two year old; looking ever more like his father, no matter how much he might deny it.

"W.. Winry?" he whispers, shakily. "Winry, is... is that really you?"

"Ed!" she breathes, laughing in disbelief. "Ed! I found you! I—thank you so much!" Winry turns to Isumi, who's looking smug and accomplished. "I don't know how I can ever repay you for what you've just done!" She is crying and laughing and relieved all at once and Isumi only chuckles and steps forward to ruffle her hair.

"Don't lie," she replies, winking at her. "That is how you can repay me."

Winry flushes but nods. "Deal." When she looks back at Ed, he is still standing there with his automail hand gripping the doorway so tightly its crushing the frame.

"Hey, hey! You're gonna' mess up my automail if you keep holding onto that door like that!" Winry frowns, eyes lit in irritation. "Hey, are you even listening to me? ED—"

She doesn't get to continue scolding him because suddenly he is scrambling down the stairs and slamming to her and leaving her literally breathless by his crushing hug. She hears him whispering in sheer bafflement at how she came here, why, and she rolls her eyes when he shoves her away abruptly and screams: "what the HELL are you doing here?" in her face for everyone to hear.

She wants to say something else but the warning look Isumi gives her has her thinking twice. "There... was an accident," Winry says instead, slowly, averting her gaze from Ed's worried ones. "They were—some people sort of..." She swallows and remembers with vivid clarity the black slit on the ground and the hands reaching out from it to grab her. She remembers the man, the alchemist, which served as her toll and can still hear his terrorized screams in her mind as she begins to tremble, eyes watering when the chains of murder reel up and hook around her neck; suffocating her with their accusations of _you killed him _and _you didn't even care because you're too selfish _to _care_.

_Did you finally get what you want?_

She wants to say no but she knows it would be a lie.

And she promised Isumi she would not lie.

"Come inside," he says suddenly, bringing her back from the trip down her own personal labyrinth of horrors. "Come inside and then we can talk about it with Al!"

"Al's here?" her voice cracks.

"Yeah," he smiles, brightly. "He'll be so happy when he sees you! I can't wait to see the look on his face!" He is leading her inside by the arm and she notices how close he is to her and how, when she tries to get ahead, he automatically picks up his pace to hover over her like a mother would to a wanderlust child. "Isumi, Sid, you guys can come too, you know," and he receives a fierce punch on the head from Isumi, who mutters angrily about disrespectful brats.

"You'd think I'd get away from her in this world," Ed mumbles to Winry, rubbing his head to ease the throb. "Guess I can't, huh?"

Winry forces herself to nod as she wonders if she will be met with other mirror-images of her friends. This thought is wrenching as they walk inside, where the interior is actually much better than the exterior. It is all well-furnished and nice and there is a lot of children running about and she feels sick when the thought of one of these children being Ed's fills her mind.

"Why are there so many kids here?" Winry decides to ask, as some stop to stare at her hesitantly.

"We're smuggling them out of the country," Ed says easily, earning a sharp elbow in his gut.

"What trouble have you gotten yourself into _this _time!" she yells.

"What'd'ya mean _this_ time?" Ed yells back.

"Ugh, different world and you _still _manage to find trouble!" She pinches the bridge of her nose, ignoring Ed's shouts of: "I don't look for trouble it finds _me_!"

"W-Winry?" Alphonse is coming from an arch way that leads to a kitchen and he drops the plates he has in his hands when he notices her. The plates crash and Winry is backing away from the piercing noise as the look of sheer horror from the fallen alchemist flashes behind her eye lids.

The sound reminds her of the clap of hands, the clap that changed her life for the better and worse.

"Winry—brother, is that really.. really...?"

"Yeah, Al. It's really gear-head Winry." Ed is grinning so hard now, making her stomach flutter but at the same time making dread congeal in the pit of it. Usually Ed would somehow turn this situation around, making it seem as if it were a bad thing. "She's actually, truly, here..." His voice holds no dejection or bitter sweetness and Winry rests easy for the moment.

"I can't believe it! Oh, wow, WINRY!" Alphonse is lifting her in a hug, laughing excitedly unlike the desperate rush of words she had received from Ed. She cuts to the chase fairly soon once she catches the serious expression of Ed. Alphonse shoo's the children out and Isumi and Sid walk upstairs to take care of something. A dark-skinned woman looking faintly like Rose gives her a curious look but she is also shoo'd out by Ed in a language that reminds her of German.

The simple movements and sounds and rowdiness between the brothers as they none-to-subtly fight for her attention is twisting as it is warming.

Ed is trying to pry the information on her arrival and Alphonse is trying to get her settled down first and scolding his brother for his forward way of things.

Winry laughs for the first time since her arrival, stunning the brothers into silence before Al giggles and Ed cracks a smile when she musters the courage to poke his metallic arm, grinning that same cheerful grin she always wore.

Not even worlds could keep them apart, Winry thinks as she helps with dinner alongside a girl named Noa, because somehow, someway, they would find a way to be together again.

They would find some form of reunion be it by fate or accident or strife.

She is sure of this now.


	20. Ivory

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!_

**Authors Note: **_Oh, slight angst with a hint of hope towards the end! As you all have noticed, all of my angst becomes happy and lovey-dovey or funny towards the end. That's probably because I don't like writing straight out angst. I prefer humor or flat-out romance. But I get too fidgety when I write stuff like that cause I believe the characters a little too OOC..._

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist—holy crap, hold everything! FMA: Brotherhood is on in 3 minutes... (convinced yet?)_

* * *

**020:_ Ivory_**

* * *

She touched the silk with tentative hands, running a single finger down the length of the gown and marveling how utterly soft it felt beneath her finger tips. The dress was a beautiful ivory, stringed together with various other skirts to give it a layered look but leaving the bodice flat, almost plain, if not for the sparkling beads; the sleeve-less dress allowing a fairly decent amount of cleavage to be shown should she ever wear it.

Winry tucked the dress back into her closet, pushing it to the farthest corner and closing the twin doors quietly, eyes downcast.

It was her mothers wedding dress; a gorgeous gown she had left to her one and only daughter for her to wear on her own wedding day.

She would always take it out at in the dead of night to finger the fine material and gaze at the smooth reflection the dress gave off under the milky light of the moon. The veil was just as curious – a single sheet of woven fibers meshed together to hide her face when she was to walk down that aisle with a vivid bouquet of flowers and bearing the brightest smile.

Her shoes were plain yet stylish: a pair of white, unadorned, flats that somehow fit with the elegant gown. Her make up would be very light to enhance her natural beauty and she would fix her hair up with chopsticks and pins just as Nelly, her childhood friend, had gushed when they were young and daydreamers.

The theme would be a clash of Xingese and Amestrian, brimming with exotic flowers and brilliant colors. It would be held in the yard behind her house, just like her mothers was. There would be trays of food, lines of chairs, a plentiful amount of people, and there would by no means be a single moment of dulness usually accompanied by weddings. She had planned out several things to do; fun things, things that would keep even the most shy person entertained.

But those were merely vapor dreams, to be blown away by the wind and perhaps passed onto another young woman who had the courage, the _life_, to make it all come true.

Winry sat down on her bed and gazed out the window above her bed, to the ink black sky spotted with lights and a current of stars that ran on for miles.

She wouldn't have the luxury of wearing that dress – not yet, at least. And most likely not for a long, long time the way things were going.

Perhaps never.

It had been five years since Ed and Al had disappeared beyond The Gate. She held very little hopes that they would return and so the dress was a constant reminder of this dream which would never be fulfilled. Because even if she did marry, if she did find someone to settle down with if only for financial reasons or to keep the Rockbell name alive, she would not wear _this_ dress.

The dress meant more to her than a pretty garment; it was one of the last few remnants she had from her mother. She refused to use such a precious thing on something so fake. It would be an insult to her mother if she ever did.

She had decided long ago that she would wear it if Ed accepted her confession and they progressed enough in a relationship to marry and start a family. But that never happened because she never managed to tell Ed how she really felt and Ed had left to a world beyond their own, his little brother in tow.

The house groaned and creaked with the chilly wind, drafting in air from the minute crevasses and making bumps appear on her skin. It was late and she knew she had to sleep soon or else she'd be tired all day long and have to close the shop up early like she had done today. She no longer had her grandmother there to beat her with a pipe to wake up or scold her into sleeping earlier.

Now she had only herself to do such things.

Winry curled up in her bed, gazing emptily at the dark space at the foot of her bed. Den was getting old; she was showing signs of sickness and Winry knew this was a type of sickness that she wouldn't be able to fix with some doses of medicine or a check-up. Soon, she would be gone, too, and Winry would be all alone for the first time in her life.

Maybe the rest of her life.

The house that was once a beckon for rest and renewal now reminded her of all the things that had been cruelly torn away from her during her twenty three years of life.

She idly wondered what would happen if she sold the house and, using the money gathered, bought a new one somewhere out by Dublith or even Reole; where automail still hadn't caught on and many people were in need of it. She could open up a shop, inform her current clients of her new location, and start anew; far away from the bitter memories Resembool and Central City held.

As she closed her eyes, thoughts of leaving and never coming back racing, she didn't notice the two shadowy figures emerging from the dark horizon, trudging down the familiar dirt path and to the yellow house on the hill that always meant home.


	21. Silver

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary:**For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense._ A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_This shot is a mix from the anime and manga. Oh, and the Chimera part... I know I don't explain very well but it was necessary for the story; even if their meeting is sort of impossible due to the circumstances._

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Truth would be a narrator._

* * *

**021: _Silver_**

* * *

She breathed in, he breathed out.

He breathed out, she breathed in.

Her hands, always so careful and gentle, slowly brushed down his arm – his metal limb – and felt the rough scratches and dents within the automail.

Her lips formed a frown, informing him that she was not happy with the way he had been treating his arm.

He figures it's okay because at least it's in one piece this time.

"Honestly, Ed," she says, softly, grabbing another tool from her toolbox and adjusting a loose screw here and there. She knows she'll need to make another arm but for now she'll try to keep it from falling apart at the seams. "What the heck are you doing out there?"

The question sounds innocent and rhetoric, but Ed knows better.

It's one of her loaded questions. It's one of the questions he usually responds to with a shrug or a sheepish smile, ignoring the dark shade that passes through her eyes as she continues to fix whatever remains of his busted up automail.

"My duty," he responds instead, giving her more than she bargained for. This time there is no darkness in her eyes, none of the hurt he has to endure during his stay. Instead, there is surprise and another softer emotion that he is not accustomed to receiving.

"The military must be rough," she comments, placing the wrench back in it's proper place and taking out a rag instead. He notices that this rag – this clean, white, rag – is brand new. It is nothing like the old, dirty and torn, rags that she uses on her other clients.

He feels a swell of what feels like pride by this information but simultaneously he feels conflicted by this other, stronger, emotion that makes him want to—

_Shuddup you perverted bastard! _He yells at himself, feeling his cheeks burn.

"Yeah, it's no walk in the park," he says, looking far beyond her.

She meets his gaze but is not surprised to see that his mind lingers elsewhere. Where, she does not know, but as she wipes the towel across his automail to get rid of excess grease, she can't help but to think that even though they don't confide with her their most intimate secrets like before, they at least have the decency to visit her; even if it's only to repair his beaten automail limbs.

"Al tells me that you've made a lot of friends," she smiles, "that's good. You were never the social one in our group."

There is an awkward silence, one that seemingly cannot be cured, before he speaks.

"Yeah, we have. We've met a lot of great people," he continues to look ahead. Then he closes his eyes and lets her start to work on his leg, which has the most damage from what she can see. At least his arm is in one piece and more-or-less functional. There is scratches and she could see bits of metal ripped clean off. She decides to start on his leg first instead of his arm. The top sheet is completely mangled and it seems that he uses his leg more for combat than his arm.

This information unsettles her because the leg is vital to his survival rather than his arm. At least he could escape if his arm broke down, but if his leg did...?

She picks up a few screwdrivers and starts the deconstruction process.

She can't help but to smile at the irony.

Automail engineering is it's own type of alchemy.

"Wow, your leg is really beat up this time," she laughs hollowly, sliding a finger down the metal. "Geez, Ed, you really can't stay out of trouble, can you?"

"I guess I can't, huh?"

She gives a strait smile and traces her fingers along a rather brutal slash down his upper thigh. She sees that the cut even manages to reach his skin and something gives a lurch inside. The skin around his ports is stretched out and ugly, a bitter reminder of the choice he made when he was a child, but now there is a new scar adorning his limb – the scar from the knife cut he had gotten from who-know's-where.

"What happened?" she asks softly, touching the still-healing cut lightly.

Ed still has not opened his eyes.

"Fight."

She waits for more information but nothing comes. And why is she so disappointed? Edward and Alphonse never tell her anything of where they have been, who they have fought, or what they have accomplished aside from the obvious. She thinks that perhaps she should demand this information or threaten it out of Alphonse or even go to the main source: Edward.

But she can't do that and she knows it.

It would be intruding and she doesn't want to anger Ed. She knows that wherever he has gone, he has met other people and she has no doubt in her mind that if she were to say something uncalled for, be too clingy or too rash, he would be able to find a new mechanic; easy. Someone better than she who can do a better job than what she is doing right now.

Because she has made her fair share of mistakes. She has forgotten to bolt in bolts, screw in screws. She remembers that day, long ago, when she picked up a stray screw and realized with horror that it was from Ed's automail and she had _forgotten _to screw it in. Sure, Ed had never found out, but when she had arrived to the hospital to find Ed in a hospital bed and bandaged, she had felt a blast of terror shoot through her.

What if it had been worse?

Somehow, this thought is too pressuring as she struggles to keep her concentration. Suddenly, the bolt she is trying to unscrew is so difficult to twist and the screwdriver is too hard to manipulate. She has done this a thousand times over, she had not injured herself with any tool since she was six, yet as she adds more pressure something happens.

She freezes as the screwdriver veers off the bolt and adds a new scratch in his leg.

Ed's eyes snap open. "What the—? What happened, Winry! Are you alright?" He sits up and glances at the scrape in his leg but dismisses it when his eyes catch red.

Winry doesn't know what happened either but if the clean cut over her knuckles says anything, then she is content with that.

"Winry, are you ok—"

"I'm fine." She stands up and places the towel aside. She is quick to head to the door, making sure that her face is away from the boy sitting diligently on the chair. "Its just a scratch – I'll be right back. Don't move or else!" She adds for extra measure, trying to inject as much of her usual bossiness so he doesn't notice anything.

He doesn't say anything but she's out the door before he can, anyways. She makes the bee-line for the bathroom and quickly opens the tap and lets the water wash over the cut. There is a lot of blood. The cut is not as shallow as she had thought it was. It's deep and gruesome and Winry can't help but to think he has suffered greater wounds than this.

She clenches her fist, pooling blood in her palm.

"Damn it," she whispers shakily. She swallows and breaths.

In. Out.

Out. In.

The blood hasn't stopped. Its gotten worse and Winry could see that she has severed the delicate web between her forefinger and her middle finger. She curses once more and grabs a roll of toilet paper from the cabinet below, letting the paper roll down as she hastily wraps her hand around it. The red bleeds through the paper and, no matter how much she wraps, it doesn't stop.

She sits on the toilet seat and presses her uninjured hand over her eyes. This is no time to be a baby, she scolds herself. She needs to repair Edward's automail in three days so he could continue his mission. She needs to make a few adjustments to the current blue-prints and she will get nowhere by crying.

She knows this but can't help the stinging in her eyes.

_Oh, no, _she groans. _Stop it, Winry! Ed needs his automail fixed now! Damn it, why are you screwing up so much today? What the hells wrong with you? _Winry throws the roll of paper to the far wall and slams her foot against the tub, making the curtain wobble and tangle against her foot. She feels angry and sad; a bad combination. She slams her foot against the tub again and again and again until her foot's throbbing and the pain in her hand becomes ignorable.

_The body can only handle one pain source, _she reasons. _At least my hand doesn't hurt anymore. _

With one last vicious kick at the tub, she stands up and discards the bloody toilet paper into the trash bin. There is a shuffling behind her but she pays no attention to it. She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out the rag she uses on her other clients and thinks of the white one she uses specifically for Ed.

She smiles bitterly. _He doesn't even care about his automail! I stay up about four nights every week thinking up of new ways to improve his automail to keep him alive and he doesn't even care._

She reaches up to press the heel of her hand into her temple, feeling a headache start to form.

_He doesn't even _fucking_ care!_

She's about to wrap her hand in the dirty rag, probably not the smartest idea with the oil and grime smeared on it, when another hand stops her. A metal hand.

She freezes for the second time that day as he takes the dirty rag from her hand and replaces it with a new one, a cleaner one, and starts to professionally wrap it.

She doesn't turn to see who it is.

She doesn't need to.

"Just a scratch my ass," she hears him snort. "That's a pretty deep wound and you're gonna' wrap it with _that_? I thought you were a some great doctor, Win." He adds with a wobbly smile, tightening the knot.

As she stares at her nicely wrapped hand, something pierces her heart.

How does he know how to medically wrap a wound?

_He probably needs to, _a nasty voice tells her, _because he's always out there risking his life. Getting hurt. Getting almost killed._

She can't take it.

She weakly steps back and falls atop the toilet seat once more, dropping her head into her hands.

_("Yeah, he got_ _impaled through the back by a beam. He was pretty beat up and we was sure he was gonna' die, ya know? But he did some weird alchemy; something about using his life energy to heal himself. '__Told us to pull it out so we did. It looked pretty nasty – glad you weren't there to see it!")_

Those two experiments, the chimeras, had told her after everything had blown over. She was in the hands of that murderer Scar when it happened, completely oblivious to the danger he had been in; laughing with Mei, chatting with Al; being oblivious to his dire situation even if she felt a bad feeling twist inside her gut.

_("... sure he was gonna die...")_

She ran fingers through her hair.

_("... got impaled through the back...")_

He was so close. So, so, so very close.

_("... use his life energy to heal himself...")_

He could have died. What if he couldn't do it? What if he had failed? Would he still be here or would he be in that other place she had heard he and Al talk about when they thought she was asleep? That place beyond the Gate?

She feels him step closer to her, his uneven steps loud in the small bathroom. He has put his hand over her shoulder and the other on her head, easing the fingers that were slowly starting to dig into her skull.

"Winry, stop it," he frowns, voice uneasy, "don't be stupid. You're hurting yourself. Tell me what's wrong and maybe I can—"

She snaps.

"YOU CAN WHAT?" She raises her head and sends him an icy look, one that leaves him stunned because even though they had gotten into fights before, she had never shown true anger. "You can _fucking _what, huh? You're back there acting like you're the king of this whole damn place and I'm here trying to keep you _ALIVE_!" she snarls, "You act like your don't care! You have no idea how important your automail is to your survival, Edward! One screw up could mean your death and you don't mother fucking _care_!" She stands up and sneers. "You strut in here with a broken limb and I fix it. I _always_ fix it. I spend _hours _trying to make your limbs better and stronger so it doesn't break. So that when you use that accursed alchemy of yours, it won't fall apart and you won't _DIE!_ So you can continue this quest of yours and restore Al's body back! So you can finally live a normal _life_!"

She suddenly laughs. It's a harsh laugh, one with suffering and mad amusement. "But that's alright, isn't it? If you die, I mean. Because all you need to do is create that stone of yours and everything is just good and dandy." She stops somewhere and it's not a laugh anymore it's a hiccup. She stops and looks at Ed for the first time.

He's pale. His eyes are wide and they look anguished and ashamed. She looks away and whispers, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" she says louder. "I-I just can't lose you." She adds brokenly, scrubbing her eyes off. "I can't lose you, too." And she knows that he knows who she is talking about. "I-I can't. I don't know what I would do if I lost you and Al..." She could feel warmth spill down her cheeks. Then she's crying and she couldn't feel weaker and stupider than ever.

Edward is still shocked, still staring wide-eyed, and hasn't a clue what to do. The confession wracks his sense of being; makes him realize just how much he's truly hurt her with his silence and recklessness. It makes him guiltier knowing that he still hurt her despite trying to protect her.

He does something though. He does something because he needs to _do _something since he doesn't know what he _could _do to atone for this hurt he unintentionally inflicted upon her. He reaches out quickly and grabs her wrist and pulls her to him before he can think himself out of it. She doesn't resist as she stands up and slams into his chest. She can feel him awkwardly pat her shoulder before gaining confidence and wrapping an arm around her.

"You won't lose me," he says, after breathing out sharply. "I won't die, Winry. Have a little faith in me, will you?"

"...You almost died," she whispers, squeezing him. "You-you got impaled by a beam that time... with Kimblee.. "

She feels him freeze and grip her tighter.

"... I'm sorry." He's guilty.

"I'm sorry too." She's ashamed.

Because she knows that she needs to trust in him more even if he leaves her in the dark half the time. She supposes there are things he would want to keep her shielded from. She thinks back to Brigg's and how they used her as a hostage. She knows that its not because does not _want _to tell her but because he _can't _tell her, even if waiting drives her up the wall in despair for the unknown. She knows if he tells her it would mean risking her life and she gets it but it still doesn't stop the betrayal she feels. She knows if he tells her of their dangerous encounters it would mean involving her and she knows that if she got into trouble Edward wouldn't know how to live with the added grief and guilt.

He's been selfless all along and she has been selfish in wanting to be apart of their little entourage when she knows she can't because of the risks that would impose. So she needs to cooperate. She needs to help him out in the one way she can: his automail.

Was this was Mae Hughes had meant?

_("Men display things in action instead of words. If it's something tough, they don't want to let the other feel the same way. And they don't want someone else to worry. That's why they don't tell you.")_

She squeezes him tightly, sucking back all the tears, and nods to herself. Edward is just protecting her, even if it hurts her in the process. She understands, as the pain flushes to a lighter emotion; something close to serenity but not exactly.

"You promised me you would only cry tears of happiness," Ed accuses softly.

She smiles and looks up and soon she is smiling genuinely. "Who says these are tears of sadness?"

Ed blinks slowly. "Wh-_what?_ You mean you weren't having a mental breakdown? You mean you just _swore _like granny Pinako because you were _happy_!" He peels himself off her and crosses his arms in irritation at her teasing smile. "Humph. Well, that was pointless. Worrying me like that.." But there is relief in his eyes.

"I did breakdown," she nods and his brows furrow in concern. "But, just promise me." She lifts her pinky for old times sake and smiles. "Promise me, whatever happens... you'll come back. No matter what."

"Crap, Winry..." he scratches the back of his head. "You sure you're alright? Really, really sure?" She nods and he sighs, undertoning: "this is so stupid..." but adding on a louder note: "I swear I'll come back. No matter what."

Their pinkies intertwine.

That's all it takes to ease the worry she'd been harboring all these months.


	22. Violet

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who became a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Authors Note: **_Oh, God, when I wrote this one it had me giggling like a school girl. The way I saw it in my head was hilarious and I loved the Al/Mei interaction xD I hope you all like it too! It's definitely comic relief for this collection; I've been writing too much angst, huh? I'll try to write some comedy from now on._

_By the way, the whole croissant thing... I was eating one when I created this fiction so lets just pretend Xing's croissants as one of the best for the sake of the fiction._

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist! If I did, Ling would eat the world out of every last crumb of food.

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**022: _Violet_**

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"U-Uh," Alphonse cleared his throat, standing at least three feet away from May Chang, who stood a few inches shorter than him wearing the traditional Xingese martial arts uniform she had come to wear nowadays. She saw May, although she was sporting a happy smile with twinkling eyes, fidget with her hands and, if she looked hard enough, could see the beads of sweat that were accumulating on her forehead. "Wow, May, you look.. great," Al seemed to wheeze, dark amber eyes looking anywhere but the pretty Xing girl in front of him.

"You are looking very handsome as well, Alphonse," May said formally. Winry saw her swallow, a spasm of panic flash through her black eyes, and the mechanic knew exactly what was going through the young girls head at the moment: _what had she just said and why did she say it? Why?_

"Um, Al."

"Pardon?"

"Al, call me Al," he told her, managing a small smile. "You don't have to be so formal with me."

"O-oh," May cleared her throat, biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide. "Okay...Al."

Winry concealed a giggle with her drink, sipping the warm tea as she peeked from above the rim of the cup to the two awkward teenagers ahead, both interested but both so obviously oblivious to the others feelings.

It made her nostalgic, just looking at them.

Winry had to admit, Alphonse was really Edward's brother. He had the same habit of blushing and looking away though Al had better tact and timing for these things than Ed. He also didn't brutishly snap as Ed did when he was embarrassed but Al did subtly, almost slyly, direct the conversation elsewhere in order to save himself further embarrassment and keep his mannerism and gentlemen come-off.

Winry thought it was brilliant how Al could move so smoothly from topics unlike Ed, who didn't really drop them so much as make them worse with his over-the-top way of handling things. She could recall at least ten times during a time span of two months when Ed would blow things out of proportion, say unneeded comments, or just fail to learn from his younger brother's easy way of changing the subject.

For a genius, Ed was sure retarded in the art of conversation.

"So... Alkahestry," Alphonse said abruptly, and Winry saw the way he resisted a wince at the topic he had chosen. "I mean, you were suppose to teach me about the Dragons Pulse the last time you saw me but I didn't seem to understand." He laughed, a bit more naturally though Winry saw how uptight he actually was. To others, he might look composed, if a little nervous, but he couldn't fool her; she'd known him since they were in diapers! "Do you think you can give me lessons on it now that everything is over?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" May nodded, smile slightly shaky. "I recall the times I tried to teach you and you failed to understand the concept of the Dragons Pulse." May suddenly frowned. She tapped the ground, eyes searching it slowly. "The area felt different when I visited Amestris; calmer. It is almost as if... there is nothing there at all. I felt an empty space brimming with the natural flow of nature."

Al sobered up, brows furrowed in thought. "How does that work?"

"How does what work, Alphon—Al?"

Al leaned against one of the windows of the tea shop. "Remember before? When you said that it felt as if there were hoards of people underneath the crust writhing around?"

"Yes..."

"How did that... feel? I know I don't make much sense but...I never felt anything that fit your description."

May bit her lip, tucking in a free strand of hair behind her ear. Her hair style was mostly the same, only she seemed to have adopted the Amestrian style of leaving her fringes falling freely rather than pulled back into the braids she collected into two, tight, pig tails. This new style, though, framed her face nicely; enhancing her natural beauty and making Winry giggle with girlish glee when Al would catch himself staring at her and hastily look away in another direction.

It really did remind her of her own experience in love.

"There really is not any other way to put it, Al," May said, looking a little conflicted. "If I could describe better it would probably be a... a big pan of oil!" She said suddenly, using her hands to help with her explanation."There is a lot of oil on the pan and it is boiling, making the oil jump out and... umm..." She thought hard, face heating up. The time spent in Xing had made her less fluent in their language. "What is.. this word..."

"Sear? Burn? Singe? Combust?"

May stared blankly.

Alphonse flushed. "Um, never mind that – just continue as you did, I think I'm starting to understand!"

"Are you sure?" May asked, voice small. "I cannot speak Amestrian that well as I have before... I'm sorry." Her face dropped.

"No!" Al said quickly, panicking. "No! No, it's alright! I understand you just fine! Oh, how about this? You teach me Alkahestry and I'll give you some lessons on Amestrian? It's...equivalent, right?"

May's nodded, mouth curling into a bright smile. "That would be... uh.."

"Nice?"

"Stronger."

"Great?"

"A little bit stronger?"

Al rose a hand to his lips, as if to rub out some itch, but Winry saw he was clearly restraining a grin. "Wonderful?"

"Yes!" May clapped her hands. "That was it!"

Winry coughed in an attempt to hide her delighted giggles. They were just too cute to watch! She saw Al send her a sharp look, cheeks a fierce red. May also glanced at her, bowing her head lightly in her direction, a steady shade of pink coloring her face.

Winry waved then pretended to read the book Ed had brought along. Her eyes skimmed a few words, immediately getting lost as she read up on some sort of alchemical theory that involved parallel universes and the concept of... something that started with a y and ending with a freaking z. She then noticed there were some words in the ancient text of Xerex and Winry wondered when Ed had learned that dead tongue...

"What're you looking at?" Ed asked, sitting down across from her. He placed a bag of croissants near his cup of coffee. Ed blew into his hands, the morning chill still in the air.

Xing, apparently, had erratic weather patterns, and currently it was windy and cloudy, making the air around them chilly.

"Look at them," Winry whispered, cautiously sipping her tea and only removing her eyes from the pair to give Ed a bright smile. "It's so cute! You're brothers going get his first girlfriend! And she's Xingese, isn't that wonderful?"

"WHAT?" Ed spat the tea out, snapping his head towards the pair standing in the middle of the room, discussing with more calm the basics of Alkahestry and its major uses as well as more unorthodox uses, such as some combat techniques May had self-taught herself. Ed squinted, eyes widening when he saw who it was. "Bean girl?"

May perked at the unsightly nickname, turning and gasping when she saw Ed. Her eyes narrowed. "You! Destroyer of dreams! How dare you show your face to me!"

"Shut the hell up you damn beansprout!" Ed shouted, pointing an accusing finger at her. "And just what the _hell _do you think you're doing with _my _brother!"

May hesitated, pink becoming red as Ed grinned maliciously at what this meant. Oh, he was going to milk this moment for all it was worth!

"I-I am teaching him the essentials of preforming Alkahestry—!"

"Of _course_ you are," Ed smirked. "Because Alkahestry is _such _an interesting conversation topic for a renowned _alchemist_ like Alphonse Elric!" Ed leaned back in his seat, arms crossed in satisfaction at the slightly mortified look on her face. "You are sly, bean girl, I'll give you that."

May swallowed, clenching her hands, and Al shot his brother a dirty look.

"Edward!" Al scowled, the expression very similar to his older brothers when he was pissed. He even stepped in front of her, as if to shield her from his older brothers harsh words. "Stop it! You're being mean! And, for your information, _I _was the one who asked her about Alkahestry!"

"But—"

Winry reached ahead and took Ed's bag of croissants, plucking one out and taking a bite. She watched with amused eyes as Ed snapped his attention back at her, mouth falling open as she chewed on the croissant, slowly gobbling it up. She was half-way through with it when he blew up.

"That was _mine_!" Ed wailed, watching helplessly as Winry continued to nibble on it. "I bought it with my own _money_! If you wanted one you could have just asked me! God dammit! What is it with women and taking what isn't theirs?"

Winry bit down on the treat hard. "Excuse me but like you should be talking!" She put the bread down, giving him a look. "You take my stuff without asking all the time – I don't know how _this_ is any different!"

"I'm hungry and that was _mine,_" he continued sourly. He reached out and flicked her nose, distracting her enough to snatch the croissant back and stuff it into his mouth before she could do anything. He swallowed it in four bites and added: "Now I have to go get _another _one because you couldn't keep your hands on your side of the damn table!"

"Ugh, how many times have I told you not to flick my nose, you stupid alchemist?" Winry yelled, nose red from the flick. He did it with his automail hand, too, the jerk! Ed had gotten this nasty habit of flicking her nose to break her train-of-thought enough to get what he wanted.

She absolutely hated having given him that opening to one-up her.

"And how many times have _I_ told _you_ to stop taking my stuff?" Ed retorted, scowling.

"Oh, drop it! It's just a croissant!" Winry huffed, laughing when Ed looked mortally offended.

"Just a croissant? _Just a croissant! _Winry, these are _Xingese _croissants! You haven't tasted anything until you've tried their croissants!" Ed argued fiercely, draining his cup of coffee in two gulps and darting back to the line, where she could see him weave through the throng of people walking about expertly and order once more.

She pretended she didn't know him when he enthusiastically hooted at the two-for-one offer.

"Is he always like this?" May asked, after watching Edward dash to the counter.

Winry laughed nervously. "Most of the time, yeah." She gave her a sly smile and wink. "His brother is better at handling these situations. But be careful with the chicken, though, he get's just as bad as Ed when it comes down that dish!"

Alphonse flushed, stammering out an excuse to which May only smiled.

"Is that so? How cute! I'm very skilled in making dishes with chicken and beef!" She laughed, causing Al to suck in a deep breath. He looked as if he'd just been offered a life-supply of fried chicken. He desperately look at Winry for guidance so as to not screw up.

_Finally, at least this Elric can ask for help! _Winry thought, eyes shining. She was so proud of Al for not wanting to screw this up!

'Go for it. She likes you!' Winry mouthed with a subtle thumbs up, grinning widely at his preparing breath. She shoved Ed down in his seat when he came back with four croissants, partially drooling in anticipation to eat one.

"Ouch!" Ed frowned, as Winry tugged him to sit next to her in the booth. He slid until their arms were touching, grabbing the delicious treat he had come to love just as much as her apple pie. "What do you want? If you want another one of my croissants I swear I'll—"

"Look!" Winry whispered, excitedly. "It's starting!"

Ed looked at Al and May and bristled when he saw they were standing _way_ to close to each other. His parental habits kicked into full gear when May touched his hand, holding it in her own smaller one and tracing something into the inside of her palm with one finger, smiling softly.

"What the hell is she doing?" Ed hissed to Winry. "Why are they holding hands?"

He only steamed more when Al closed his hand over hers.

"That's it!" Ed cracked his knuckles, ready to stand up and stop the interaction. "Why that little—mmffh!" Ed shot a lethal glare at Winry, who'd unceremoniously shoved a croissant in his mouth to quiet him.

She gave him a frightening look. "You will _not _ruin this for your little brother!" She hissed, grabbing his shirt and bringing him closer to her. Their noses touched, her peeved eyes boring into his own surprised ones. "He's wanted a girlfriend since before that thought ever crossed your mind and you will so _not _trash this experience! May is a nice girl and they have a lot of things in common, like martial arts and alchemy, and she's pretty and _Xingese!_" Her eyes shined. "I approve!"

Ed swallowed, grimacing as the roll of doe choked him up a bit as it went down. "You... really like Xingese girls, huh?" He drank some of her tea to unclog his throat.

"It's not that!" she said, a bit too quickly. At Ed's raised brows, she sighed. "Okay, okay. I admit it – I've always wanted to hook your brother up with a Xingese girl..."

"Why?" Ed frowned. "There'd obviously be a language barrier if you ever did. Al might be bordering on genius but he still can't learn fluent Xingese if he lives in Amestris."

"That's why May is a perfect choice!" Winry squealed. "She knows enough of our language and she's perfect for him! Look at them!" She tilted Ed's head to them, to their pink but content faces and their twined hands. "There's so much chemistry between them!"

Ed scoffed, wearily eying their hands while Al said something that made May laugh. He saw her squeeze his palm and frowned deeper. "...Were we like that when we first got together?" He trailed his eyes over his brothers glazed ones, May's happy smile, and their sudden shift in body language as Al became a little braver and grabbed her other hand, explaining something he couldn't hear and also drawing something on her inner palm. However, May squeaked and removed her hand with a heavier shade of red upon her cheeks.

He watched Al blink, then smirk mischievously, and grab her hand and tickle it, causing her to burst out laughing, trying to push his hand away as it caused an uncontrollable bout of laughter in her.

"S-Stop it Alphonse!" May said in between laughs. "I-I-I gi—eek!"

"Say please!" Al laughed, clasping his hand around her forearm to keep her still and continuing his tickling.

"P-P...hahaha!"

"Say it!"

"Pl..ple...please! please, stop!" May gasped. Al smoothly gave in and she clutched her ribs from laughing so hard. "Oh, I haven't laughed like this in such a long time," May said, beaming up at Al, who's grew a steady red.

"...I seriously hope not..." Ed muttered, looking horrified. "That would be..."

"Be what?" Winry asked, leaning against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her fall into his arms casually. She placed a palm on his knee, he tapped his foot idly on the floor; his arm squeezing her to him every few minutes.

"Really, really lame." Ed laughed when Winry scowled. "C'mon! Look at them! It's like a freaking romance novel." Ed watched May giggle at something Al said. He fake-gagged. "I think I need to go to the dentist; I'm getting a cavity from just watching them."

"Don't be such a drama queen," Winry rolled her eyes. "And for your sake," Winry sighed, resting her cheek on his shoulder, "we weren't like them. Granny said she didn't notice we'd gotten together until she caught us upstairs... on the bed.. remember?"

Ed suddenly grinned. "Oh, yeah, and she threatened to tear my balls off—"

"Ed!" Winry snapped. "Please remember you're not the only one here! There are _other_ people!"

Ed snorted. "It's not like they understand us anyways."

"_Anyways_, we were never that type of couple," she concluded. She closed her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. "Al and May will most likely be affectionate towards each other. You never were."

"Wait a second, what's that suppose to mean?" Ed said, sounding uncertain. "I was affectionate! I _am_—"

"I meant, in public," Winry murmured, the tea making her a little drowsy. "And even in private, you were never so cuddly."

Ed stayed quiet, conflictingly so Winry surmised, but she merely widened her smile.

"...I don't mind," she said softly, "because you were always way more passionate. I'd take that over cute and cuddly nine out of ten times"

Ed leaned down and her eyes glimpsed the naughty smirk on his lips. "Passionate, huh? I'm feeling pretty passionate right now, would you like a demonstration?"

Winry's cheeks heated against her will. "Ed. Not. Now."

"What?" he said innocently. "You said you liked my passion. And I'm willing to show you my passion right now..."

Winry suddenly jumped with a strangled yelp as he stifled a snicker. She stood up hastily, sending him a harsh look, and stiffly shoved his hand out from under her skirt. She slammed her boot into his flesh foot, causing him to hack out a whimper as he fought to keep his manliness and not scream like a little girl.

"Ed, I think we're late for your meeting with Emperor Ling, don't you think?" Winry ground out, picking Ed up by the collar as the boy tried to regain feeling in his foot. "Alphonse, May, we're leaving!"

Al looked over to them, hand still twined with May, and blinked at the half-amused, half-pained expression his brother wore. Honestly, Winry always had Ed arranging his face in the weirdest ways.

"A-ah, okay," Al turned back to May, smiling apologetically. "I have to go now. It was really nice meeting you again, May. Maybe we can hang out sometime after—"

"Oh, no!" Winry interrupted, once she caught onto their conversation. She gave Ed a firm tug, as he silently grumbled about violent women and domestic abuse. "Ed and I are going! _You_ _two_ can stay _together_," Winry stressed to Al, who swallowed and nodded determinedly, "for as long as you both want! May, please being back Al before ten though."

"Yes, miss Winry. May you have a good day," May responded. Winry ignored the 'why-are-you-making-me-look-so-defenseless-and-lame?' look Al was giving her and cheerfully waved goodbye, dragging Ed behind her, who looked forlornly at his little brother.

_They grow up so fast, _Ed thought, wistfully, as Winry lectured him on bad timing and his overprotective nature. He even got another bump on his head when he totally ignored her and gasped, in horror, about forgetting his croissants on the table.

"Shut the hell up about your croissants!"

"How about you shut the hell up about my attitude and call it a day?"

"You're such a jerk!"

"OW! What the fuck—YEOUCH! Stop it woman! You're going to give me a concussion!"

They didn't go to the Palace to meet up with Ling like she'd said. Instead, they went to the lodging sector, where Ling had offered to house them for the extent of their vacation considering all the meals Edward had spent on him (against his will, of course). The rooms were lavish and beautiful and Edward had decided that maybe (keyword: _maybe_) Ling had repaid his debt—only because Winry's face had lit up in a way that pleased Ed.

"Wait, why are we going back to the rooms again?"

"Just keep moving, you walking freak show."

"Tch, gear-head—OKAY! OKAY! I'M SORRY!"

"Humph."

It had all become clear to him when they were a few steps away from their room. There was only one reason Winry would want to go back to their lodging so early and the reason made Ed smirk very, very widely.

In the end, he was just happy he'd gotten his way, in a roundabout manner, and been able to show her his so-called passion; however stomach-dropping it had felt when he thought of Al being some soft and cuddly and girly younger brother, as Winry had made him out to be.

Just in case...

_Note to self, _Ed thought, some hours later, laying beside Winry, who dozed on his chest, tired out from the naughty events he'd submitted her to mercilessly. _Give Al lessons on how to be a bad boy. _Because, knowing his brother, he'd not advanced anymore than hand holding. He always was too old-fashioned...

_Okay, lets start small: at least _dress _like one._


	23. Magenta

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists one and only golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_This one was intended to be a humor one-shot, something that can get a smile out someone, but somehow my bitter mood caught up with me and reflected in the words below. I hope everyone likes it regardless! I noticed these oneshots rarely have something to do with the color prompt... I hope you all don't mind that either XD I have too much fun just creating a random plot out of nowhere._

_Story Note: This is before the promise she makes with Ed._

_REVIEW!_

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Havoc would pimp out his wheelchair!

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**023: _Magenta_**

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Rockbell's didn't get jealous.

Winry crushed the can in her fist after draining it in one gulp and screeched it to the side, glaring at the small group of girls that huddled around Ed and Al. Alphonse, at least, had the decency to look abashed and flustered. Edward, however, ate up the attention like the stew her grandmother made. He smirked and flirted, flaunted his automail and showed off his alchemy.

Eventually, Alphonse had joined in on the fun, despite being a full suit of armor and not having a normal human body. Winry gathered that all Elric's were attention-grabbing hobbit's who had no sense of integrity as they flamboyantly demonstrated their combat skills.

She stood, screeching her chair back loudly, and seethed when no one noticed and _they_ continued their display of freakishness. She went to a small concession stand nearby and ordered a bottle of water and two giant scoops of double-chocolate ice-cream mixed along with a lot of whip-cream and a cherry on top.

The man was only too happy to make her one, evening adding some sprinkles when he caught her looking at the two boys surrounded by the swarm of girls.

"There you go," the man smiled, accepting her money and giving her back change. "Good luck!" He added hopefully, which made her flush a dark magenta and worsened her mood. It made her uncomfortable that her black mood was so obvious, and she tried hard to conceal it under a different pretense: hunger. She dug into the desert with vigor, jamming the spoon into her mouth in quick successions until her throat felt frozen.

She placed her spoon down and cracked open her bottle of water.

If she was going to pig out, she might as well be healthy about it.

"His automail is sooo dreamy," she heard a girl gush lowly. "I wish my mom hadn't told me to come back home so soon! He's such a charmer!"

Winry snorted a laugh, gaining herself unwanted attention from the two girls.

"What are you laughing at?" the one on the left asked, defiantly. The girl who had spoken first, who had made her snort in the first place, nervously watched.

"Nothing except her totally ridiculous claim," Winry replied cuttingly, liking that she finally had an outlet to release all the pent up frustration. "No offense or anything," she added once she caught sight of the first girls hurt brown eyes. The girl seemed a little too fragile and, even if Winry had no qualms on putting down the weak when necessary, she felt as if putting _her _down would only make her feel guilty. She looked like a nice girl.

"Too late," the second girl pipped up again. "What the hell is your problem, anyways? Jealous?" Her green eyes glittered jeeringly.

"Jealous?" Winry scoffed, dipping her spoon inside the small mound of ice cream. "Why would I be jealous of you?"

"Because we can speak to them and you can't even muster up the balls to do it yourself," she stated matter-of-factly.

Winry took her time reply, a snarky smile on her face. Bingo. "They _live_ with me, actually. I've known Ed and Al for better part of my life. So I don't need some two-faced bitch to tell me what I'm missing out," she finished rather smugly.

The girls face burned red and her eyes flashed dangerously. Winry was aware it had gotten too silent all of a sudden.

"What'd you call me?"

Winry lifted her chin in defiance. "Two-faced bitch. You have a hearing problem, too? My grandmother owns a clinic up by the hill, we'd be happy to supply you with a new set of ears. Maybe a brain, too, if it were possible."

"Christine," the timid girl beside her interrupted, tugging on the girls sleeve, "lets go. It isn't worth it. Come on, my mom's probably—"

"Nu uh!" Christine growled, narrowing her pretty green eyes. "I ain't gonna' let some bastard-child hick like her talk me down."

Winry's own eyes narrowed. "What'd you call me?"

Christine smiled, glad to have hit a nerve. "A bastard child, because that's what you are, _Winry Rockbell. _Dropping out of preparatory, working on automail instead of getting an _education_! Its not a wonder you're so ill-mannered! Your parents _dead _and all."

Winry stood up, lips drawn into a scowl and her eyes going dangerously blank. "You have a problem with my parents, Wilson?"

"More than a problem, actually," Christine Wilson, the girl Winry had always disliked due to unsightly circumstances during her first years in high school, said. "Mom told me that your parents were drafted in the Ishvalan war couple of years ago and when they were ordered back, they didn't go. That's so stupid! If I was in a war, I would have gone back immediately!"

"Don't talk about things you don't know!" Winry snarled, nails digging into her palm. She was sure she heard Alphonse gasp from somewhere around her.

"Whats there to know?" The girl upturned her nose. "Your parents were drafted into the war, ordered to come back but didn't 'cause they were too stupid to, and died. End of story."

It happened before she had time to think about it. She saw red, heard someone call her name, but it was too late. She had her fist pulled back and her other hand grabbing the girls pretty yellow shirt. Before she knew it, she was shoving the girl against a table, slamming her down and putting as much force as she could into her punch.

Tears brimmed her eyes. The comment had hurt more than it was suppose to. The girl had tore open a healing wound, rubbed salt into it. The girl had voiced the dark thoughts that haunted her, tangled her in a web of shame and guilt.

"You don't know anything!" Winry cried tremulously, sending another punch her way; shoving away the hands that tried to pry her away from the frightened girl. "My parents died saving those people! They died knowing that they had done what they could! THEY DIED WITH HONOR! MORE HONOR THAN YOU—" Her hand was stopped by another, stronger, heavier, one.

An automail hand.

Winry turned shakily, wide eyes staring into Ed's steeled ones. "That's enough, Winry," he said softly, reaching down to unclasp the fingers that clutched the girls shirt tightly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder when she dropped her fist and carefully led her back as the girl she had been pummeling scrambled away, eyes wide with fear.

"That was very uncalled for," Alphonse spoke up, directing his body to the girl. "You should not speak of the dead in such an ill way. You should be grateful that you own are not deceased.. rather alive and there to guide you. The Rockbell's left this world honorably and it is wrong to assume the worst in people, especially to people you know nothing of."

"If you were as well-mannered as you claimed to be, you wouldn't have said that." Edward drew a deep breath and sent the coldest look to the girl, to all of them, who looked at the scene with soberly.

"You," he said, pointing at the girl who held her cheek, which was starting to bruise. "If I hear that you, _any of you, _are bothering Winry with this topic, or any topic, I don't give a shit if you are a girl, I will kick your ass," he enunciated every word, gold eyes glowering menacingly. He clenched his flesh fist, made sure everyone could hear his knuckles popping, before turning to Al, who only nodded to back up his statement.

The silence was thick, a blanket of anxiousness and awkward tension.

Winry pushed off Ed's hand, which had been gripping her shoulder in comfort. She didn't bother wiping away the tears – the damage was done.

"I didn't quit preparatory because I felt like it," she added softly. "I quit because I had gotten my degree already. I took extra courses during the summer in order to devote my life to automail, like my parents wanted me to." She didn't look at anyone as she turned and walked away, hearing Al's heavy footsteps and Ed's light ones follow her lead.

Eventually, they made it to the fork that led to either her home or the cemetery. Winry took left, listening to the footsteps pause.

"Winry, are you going to be okay?" came Al's uncertain voice.

"I'll be back in a little while," Winry replied, looking over her shoulder and forcing a smile. It felt so fake but it was needed. She didn't like them to see her so sad. "Save me some dinner, will you?" She avoided Ed's eyes, which she knew were concerned and most likely ponderous at her outburst of emotion which had started this in the first place.

She made it to her parents cold gravestones without any difficulty. She almost mourned how they hadn't even followed her just for the heck of it. But she knew better – Ed and Al respected her wishes, even if they were half-hearted or untrue.

She stayed there, on her haunches, for the longest time just thinking. She didn't say anything and she had half a mind to go and buy some flowers for her parents as the ones she had laid before were wilting. Eventually, she decided against it, being out of money, and simply laid down next to the stone; the dead silence a comfort.

This was all her fault. There was no denying – why did she have to go pick fights? Most of her verbal fights were nasty, yes, and she had only gotten into one fist fight in her fifteen years of life. She had kind of won that one, if the bleeding lip and swollen cheek said anything. But this fight didn't even have anything to _do _with those girls – it all stemmed back to Ed and Al's attitude.

Maybe she had been jealous, but not for the reasons that girl had said. Maybe she had been jealous of the attention Ed had been giving to the girls but neglected to give her. Maybe the fact that the boys had more fun when they were surrounded by a crowd and not by her and granny had struck a sore spot.

Maybe the fact that Ed and Al had grown up without her, become people she hardly recognized anymore, had caused that grieving frost around her heart, which she had channeled into anger and unfairly directed at Christine, a girl she had already disliked.

She pressed an arm over her eyes, felt bile rise, and let a sob escape.

She cried hard, sometimes nearing wails. Her nose was stuffy and pink, her eyes felt dry and her cheeks drier from the tears that the wind pressed onto her skin. Her shirt around the collar was soaked and when she sat up, the sun down and dark beginning to rise, felt a dizzy spell spin her around from the debilitating cry.

Winry glanced at her parents stone one last time and said goodnight, standing and dusting herself off.

By the time she made it to the house, saw that the lights were still on and she would have to face them, her grief had become light. The self-anger at herself for initiating a useless fight had dispersed and she felt better than she had in months. A good cry was a great way to relieve stress, she knew this personally from the many books regarding depression and other emotional situations.

"Grandma, I'm home!" Winry winced. Her voice sounded hoarse and raw.

"Winry!" Alphonse race into the living room. Edward jolted up, dropping the book he had draped over his face, and scrambled to her as well.

Of course, all she got was fallen faces and hardened stares when they caught sight of her puffy eyes and dry streak marks. She managed a genuine smile, which only seemed to twist the dagger in their hearts, and asked, "Have you guys had dinner yet?"

"No... we wanted to wait for you," Al said. "Um, granny is making cobbler today! It's you and brothers favorite, right?"

Winry cleared her throat. "Yeah, it is. That's great, I haven't had granny's cobbler in weeks!" She started forward and passed the two boys. "Come on, I'm starving!"

But Ed caught her hand.

Alphonse looked at her with visibly sad eyes, despite being an armor. She was always mystified how expressive his eyes could be, even though they were only two ominously glowing orbs.

"Whats is it?" she whispered, meeting Ed's gaze for the first time since the incident. They were glowing fervently, drowned in determination. But instead of saying whatever had wanted to say, he just gave her hand a spontaneous squeeze of comfort and dropped it, hastily making his way to the kitchen.

"Whats up with him?" Winry asked Al, who looked down at her with sheepish delight.

"I think this is his own way of telling you he was worried about you," Al replied slowly, a giggle lacing his words.

Winry touched her palm and smiled softly. "Leave it to Ed to have his own way of comforting people. Come on, Al, lets go to the kitchen."

And indeed it was an original way to comfort her. Because right before she went to sleep, as she was heading towards her room which was right next to his, his hand caught hers again and she stared into those rich topaz eyes once more to see a slightly different emotion in them.

Rarely did Ed's eyes go as soft as they did in that moment.

"I'm sorry," he said guiltily. "I should have stopped her when I had the chance. I shouldn't have hesitated as long as I did—"

Winry sighed, turning and putting her other hand atop of his. "Don't go blaming yourself, Ed. I picked that fight and I got my reckoning. It was my fault, so don't go twisting the story and blaming yourself!"

"She went too far," he continued, tone dark.

"I went too far, too," she shrugged, smiling grimly. "She just hit a nerve, is all. She's a vicious girl and I knew that. Besides..." She raised her fist, a smile cracking the glum atmosphere. "I've been dying to punch her lights out for so long now! It felt as good as I imagined it would be!"

Edward allowed a scoff. "I didn't know you could fight, Win."

"Well, I can." She jutted her chin out in triumph. "You're not the only one that can kick ass, Edward."

"Apparently not," he smirked, and she noticed their hands were still twined together. Ed noticed this too and quickly removed his hand, red dusting each cheek. But she caught it before it strayed too far and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, giving him a fond smile of thanks.

"...Your mom and dad died saving a lot of lives during the war. There's nothing shameful about that," Ed said quietly, a blush crawling onto his cheeks. "S-so don't be a crybaby and get all girly on me, alright!"

Winry chuckled. "Deal. Thanks again, Ed." She slowly slid her hands away from his, trying to extend the moment, before the cold air swallowed up her palms. "Good night."

"Yeah, night."

_Leave it to Ed to turn up the cute-factor during sentimental moments like these,_ were her thoughts as she snuggled under her covers, watching the moon spill its milky glow over the land.

Perhaps that girl had been right: Ed could really be a charmer when he wanted to be.


	24. Ash

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists one and only golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Authors Note: **_I personally liked this one because Envy is one of my favorite villains in Fullmetal Alchemist and I think we should appreciate him more. He played his role as the destructive emotion of jealousy quite well if I have anything to say about it. I hope you all enjoy this one shot! It matches with the color prompt this time XD_

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, the series would be retitled 'Flame Alchemist' for a day.

* * *

**024:_ Ash_**

* * *

There was blood trickling down his lips and, as he gazed at the pool of red beneath his feet, dusts of ash rolling away in the wind as a fire burned intensely around him. He was slumped against a wall, head down, left hand holding down his busted mechanical arm.

"Is that all you got?" a mocking voice called from above. A fist slammed into his stomach unexpectedly, making Ed cry out. His eyes locked into the black eyes of Envy, as he grinned maliciously and twisted his fist within his stomach.

He choked out something thick and warm, felt it dribble down his lip and seep into his shirt. He didn't need to look to know what it was; if the copper-taste in his mouth said anything.

"C'mon, it isn't fun when you just _give up_! Fight back, pipsqueak!" Envy suddenly leaped back, avoiding a headbutt. "There we go! I knew you wouldn't disappoint me!"

"You talk too fucking much!" Ed snarled and shot forward, catching Envy by the arm and twisting it the wrong way, hearing bone split. He slid forward using his mechanical foot while Envy cried out, flashing dangerous eyes to him and grabbing Ed by the neck, where he morphed his fingers into nails and stabbed them into his skin.

_Envy can't do that, _were his clouded thoughts. _Can he?_

Ed jerked the homunculus' arm down, broken bone breaking through skin. Envy howled in pain, trying to tear his arm away from Ed's clutches.

"You bastard!" Envy cursed through clenched teeth.

He tried to claw his fingers into his throat but Ed shoved him away before they could get too deep, watching his arm snap back into place with a fizzle of red energy.

"You're gonna' pay for that!" Ed shouted, touching the scratches on his neck.

"I'd like to see you try, pipsqueak," Envy smirked, working out his regenerated arm. But it disappeared when Ed abruptly grinned. "What—"

Envy saw Ed stomp his foot and a current of blue electrical energy course beneath the ground, making it weak and collapsing it. It was then Ed noticed they were on a roof and, as they both fell into a darkness, it was dark and there were no stars...

"Damn it!" Envy roared, as he flung the debris away from his body. Red energy crackled around his face and ribs, mending the torn skin and once again making him flawless. "Look at what you did to my beautiful face!" He held his regenerating cheek, mouth contorted into a snarl. "I'm going to tear you apart, you fucking brat!"

"I'd like to see you try," Ed mocked, holding his busted up automail arm... only it wasn't busted up anymore. He just noticed this as Envy ran straight at him. Ed dodged a punch and sent his own kick, drawing back his hand to let it rip with a burst of strength. Envy avoided his blows with graceful flips and unsurprising flexibility.

Ed clapped his hands and transmuted his automail into a long and sharp blade. He sprinted after Envy without a second lost, raising his arm and slashing it across his throat with a roar.

Envy tripped back, spraying a torrent of blood in his wake. The blood splashed on his face disgustingly as Ed stabbed his blade into Envy's shoulder. Envy merely grunted and flipped back. The wound sizzled closed and Envy looked more murderous than before, grinding his teeth as Ed smirked cockily.

"What's the matter, Envy? You looked pissed off."

"You're going to beg for life when I'm through with you," Envy hissed. Suddenly, his serpentine eyes sparkled and a dreadful smile stretched upon his face.

"Come at me, Full Metal," Envy taunted, tongue licking his lips. "What're you waiting for short-stuff?"

Ed scowled and ran forward, automail hand raised to deliver a last blow when suddenly the scene changed. They weren't in a barely lit room anymore with the moonlight from the gap above them to give them sight, now they were near a telephone booth and he was in the blue military uniform he detested so much.

And Envy was no longer anywhere to be seen because now Winry stood in his place. She had this terrified look on her face, hands raised as if to shield herself, and Ed fell on his knee in an effort to stop himself from hurting her. The tip of his blade dug into the concrete, creating a deep line as it scraped to a halt.

He wiped his lip and discovered no more blood but he did not mind that as Winry suddenly smiled, blue eyes lighting up in relief.

"Ed!"

"Winry? What the hell are you doing here? It's dangerous!" Ed shouted, standing up and looking around. "Envy is around here somewhere and he's—"

Ed froze, breath at a complete stop. He rose his eyes to Winry's. They were cold and when he looked back down there was a hand stabbed through his stomach. He hacked out blood, pain so intense it would have had him on his knee's if not for Winry's arm, which held him up on his feet.

She drew closer, sky eyes smoldering as they gazed into his own horrified ones.

"W-Winry?" Ed croaked. She grinned, nose wrinkled in disgust. It was a malicious grin, one that he knew Winry would never wear. His gold eyes widened further with realization. "No... Envy."

"How does it feel?" Envy said huskily, imitating Winry's voice so perfectly he felt his chest ache. His voice reverted to that snide tone which was Envy: "How does it feel to be killed by the woman you so dearly love, Full Metal?" It switched back, sky eyes watering. "How could you leave me all by myself in Resembool, Ed? How could you just _leave _me, unprotected, a red target nailed on my back, and not even care? How could you, Edward?" Tears streamed down her face and Ed found himself shakily raising a hand to wipe them away, head shaking slowly in denial. Her hand sunk deeper, touching something so private it had him gushing out more blood through his mouth as all rational thought cleared from his head.

"I'd... never... leave you... unprotected," Ed wheezed, bottom lip quivering. "It was... to protect you... from everything.. from me..."

"You're a liar!" Winry shouted, shoving him further into the phone booth and stabbing her hand so deeply into his stomach he felt it tear through the other side, from his back.

Ed screamed and gripped her shoulders, bloody teeth clenched as he felt her arm twist inside his gut and free hand caress his face almost lovingly. "I hate you, Edward Elric," she whispered into his ear. He very well felt his heart shatter upon those words; felt a pain more intense than the one he felt currently shoot through him. "I hate you so much I just _can't stand it_! Hahahaha!" Her voice morphed into Envy's towards the end, his insane laughter white noise as Ed digested her words, committed them to memory, and felt his eyes burn.

Her arm mercilessly slide out of Ed and he saw, with blurring eyes, Winry spit, nose wrinkled in disgust and eyes narrowed in hate.

"You're just like Hugh's," Envy sneered, body transforming back to normal. "You're a dumbass who falls for shit like this."

"Win... ry..."

Envy grinned. "How's it feel to get the _short_ end of the stick, Full Metal?" Envy held the sides of the phone booth, leaning in and transforming his face back to Winry's. "How does it feel to die by the hands of your lover?" she hissed.

"I—"

The booths doors shut with a slam as his blood pooled beneath him—

Suddenly, everything was dark. Ed shot up in his bed, shakily looking all around the room for signs of Envy. Paranoia reared its ugly head; every creak, blowing breeze, and groaning floorboard making the alarms in his head go off.

The soothing moonlight that leaked through the partially open blinds had none of its usually calming effects on him. Instead, it served as light to see that he was in a room, a large, familiar, room, and there was an eerie silence save for his labored breathing which sounded like whimpers to him.

"Brother?" Al's hollowed voice spoke from somewhere around him. Ed started, flinching back and resisting the urge to clap his hands and transmute his arm to defend himself when he glimpsed his younger siblings glowing eyes in the darkness. "Brother, are you alright? Did you have another nightmare?"

"A-Alphonse?" Ed stammered, voice high and not like his own. "Al... is that r-really you?"

Al's armor body rose quickly and he kneeled by Ed's side, concerned. "Brother, are you okay? Brother...?"

"W-Winry," Ed breathed shakily, gold eyes unseeing as he searched the room desperately for the girl. "Wh-where's Winry?"

"She's sleeping in her room, brother, what—Ed?" Al watched his brother stumble to the door and throw it open. Al rushed after Ed, who grabbed onto the doorknob which lead to Winry's room tightly and flung the door open, eyes wild and fear at its highest.

She lay in her bed quietly, blond hair tousled and a hand gripping a wrench loosely to her chest. Just the sight was enough for Ed to realize that it had all been a dream and Winry was nice and safe in her bed and not... not causing him pain and bleeding him dry with a single strike...not laughing in his face and telling him the words he dreaded to hear...

"Brother, what's wrong?" Al placed an arm upon Ed's shoulder, as he leaned heavily on the door frame. Al gently pushed him out and closed the door as quietly as he could, not noticing Winry's shadowed outline rise from her bed.

"S..she's alright..." Ed whispered, running a hand down his face. He looked tired, Al noticed, very tired. Ed let his head bump against the wall.

"What did you dream, brother?" Al asked worriedly. "You're very pale..."

"She... Envy..." Ed murmured, shaking his head. "It's nothing Alphonse. It was just a dream. A terrible dream, but fictional in every way." He slowly recomposed himself, feeling stupid for rushing to her room just to confirm that she really _hadn't _been there, saying those things, smiling that smile...

The door creaked open and Winry poked her head out, hair mussed from sleep. "What the heck are you guys doing out here by my door?" she asked irritably, keeping her voice low so her grandmother wouldn't hear. "Do you know what time it is? Ed, Al, you both need to wake up early to catch the morning train to Central!"

"We're sorry! Did we wake you?" Al apologized, casting looks at his brother, who merely stared at her before dropping his gaze; the stress lines on his face smoothing out a bit.

Edward knocked his hand against the metal torso of his brother, a silent plea for privacy. Al stared long and hard at his brother, worried, and only moved when Ed gave another knock. He said a quiet goodnight to Winry and made himself scarce, heading back to their temporary room as quietly as he could.

Winry watched Alphonse retreat before shifting her eyes to Ed, who still had his head down. His hair was loose, draping down his shoulders and obstructing her vision from his face.

"Well?" Winry demanded, crossing her arms against the night chill. "Shouldn't you be heading off to bed too?"

"Winry," Ed asked, voice hoarse. "I have to... ask you something. Its been bothering me for a long time now but I can... never really ask. There wasn't a right time _to_ ask." _Until now, _he added silently. _Because of this fucking dream. _That was the answer to his scrambling thoughts, however: this dream. How could a dream throw him out of his element so easily? It was just a dream: a visual manifestation taking place in his head, drudged up from the very depths of his subconscious.

Was this what he was afraid of? To engage in a bloody battle with someone so close to him? Or to have her used against him in such a brutal manner?

Or was it... something deeper?

He didn't want to think about it.

"What is it?" Winry asked, frowning.

Ed didn't dare look at her, his dream still vivid in his head. Although it was stupid to take into consideration such a lie of a dream he couldn't help but to let it fertilize his sorrow and cowardice for not being able to tell her – ask her – what he mostly thought about whenever she drifted into his thoughts. He wished there was a distraction, something that would put off this particular conversation, but the night was still young and he knew nothing would pop out from the shadows and help extend this much-needed talk.

He needed to get it out into the open if he was to ever to get a good nights rest.

"Do you... do you—hate me?" Ed choked, setting his jaw firm to keep himself composed. "I can understand if you do," he added, voice tight.

There was a stunned silence.

"Edward," Winry began softly, "Ed, how could you even think that? I don't hate you. I've never hated you. Ever. I wouldn't even _dream_ of hating you, no matter how much grief you put me through I could—"

"That's exactly why," Ed cut off, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I always come back with a fucked up automail and Al and I cause you a lot of worry...and I'm always pissing you off and—and making you cry and putting you in dangerous situations! How could you _not_ hate me?" Ed asked, voice fierce with conviction. "I've put you through so much shit it's not even funny."

In an instant, she was in his arms. Her face pressed against his chest as she tightly hugged him, the mere action reassuring him more than she could have ever believed.

"You're such an idiot sometimes," Winry whispered, voice laden with compassion. "I might get angry that you've ruined another one of my automail arm's but at least it's just the arm. It could be replaced in two, three, days tops." She closed her eyes and tightened her arms around him. "I'd rather you come back a million times with a busted up 'mail than... than have you really hurt somewhere that's _not __replaceable._ Sure, you cause me a lot of worry and you never tell me anything but... you just want to keep me protected from—whatever is out there, right?" She recalled Hugh's wise words, the words that extinguished all those sleepless nights spent coming up with theories as to why the brothers left her in the dark so often. "It doesn't bother me anymore because I know that when the time's right... you'll tell me. So until then, I can wait."

"How... could you do that?" Ed asked, voice a little dead. "Wait, I mean. I—_we_ always make you wait. How could you just accept it?"

"Because you always come back," Winry smiled into his shirt. "I know that, even if you take years, you'll always come back. That's enough for me."

Ed said nothing but he did wrap his arms around her, taking her by surprise when he pulled her into himself, buried his face into her hair and nearly had her gasping for air by how tight his automail arm was crushing her to him. She was about to tell him that she needed air, despite the warm feeling inside at his reciprocation, when he abruptly let go. He dropped his arms to the side and when she looked up, felt her own face heat up by his ardent gaze.

"You don't have to wait for me,"said Ed, sounding grim. "It makes me feel like my bastard father when you put it like that..."

"I-I don't hate you, Ed, I.." she stopped herself, eyes going wide at the words stuck in her throat. Ed stared expectantly. She swallowed, mouth going dry. "I..." Could she really say it? What would happen if she did? Winry feared most his rejection; the mere thought of having Ed awkwardly tell her 'no' was like a kick to her stomach.

She noticed how close they were and how, as they were the same height, their lips were so close. Hugh's had said men expressed themselves more through actions than words; that they understood more with... _actions_...

She bit her lip and locked onto his eyes, getting lost in the ringlets of gold that made them glow the way they did. She didn't even notice she was leaning in until his breath hitched and she froze, snapping out of the drunk stupor from Ed's intoxicating gaze.

"I... don't hate you," she said instead, repeating her previous words. Her breath feathered his lips. "I could never hate you. So get that idea out of your head right now, Edward, because I don't hate you at all. You're just a little annoying, okay?" She hastily stepped back, licking her lips as she regained her wits. She cursed herself for her flighty behavior; she needed to snap out of it. She couldn't even look at him as she spoke: "Go to sleep, Ed. Y-your train leaves early so you have to rest up."

Ed's stare was making her nervous. When he looked away, pink dusting each cheek, it was even worse for it seemingly ratcheted the awkwardness that was laid thickly between them.

"R-right," Ed mumbled, clearing his throat. "Uh, sorry about waking you for this. Night, Win."

"It's okay," she mumbled right back, fumbling with the doorknob. "Good night, Ed." When she managed to get it open and she stepped inside, she glanced right to see Ed heading into his own room. He glanced at her before going in, sending her a look that had her blushing scarlet and bolting into her own room; dashing under the sheets and burying her face in her pillow.

She could never hate Ed.

It was unimaginable. No matter how annoying he was; no matter how insufferable he could be; no matter how many times he busted up her automail; no matter much he made her head hurt...

She couldn't hate him because she really just loved him.


	25. Gray

_**Color Theorem**_

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
_**Author's Note: **_This doesn't have many sexual themes but there are hints. It's a bit solemn because I decided Ed is better off being an apathetic drunk. I'm sorry if he is a little OOC, but he is under the influence so you can't really blame me. _

_This is my version of a drunk Edward Elric having a bad day, folks, and let me tell you, its kind of funny if you can visualize it from another person's POV and not his, like it is here. _

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Lust and Scar would be dating.

* * *

**025: _Gray_**

* * *

It's a well-known fact that Edward Elric disliked public congregations of people, otherwise known as parties. He sat in a chair, alone, on a table overly decorated with pinks and whites, holding a glass of champagne and internally debating the pro's and con's on getting the moron who planned this party arrested as he was under-aged _and_ drinking.

He shrugged it off, however, when he discovered that the alcohol made most of his anger turn sultry and apathetic. He decided, as he drunk down another glass, that alcohol wasn't so bad so long as it made the feelings of irritation and frustration disappear for a little while.

"Brother, are you okay?" Al asked, sounding concerned.

Ed couldn't have that: Al had to enjoy himself because this was his first party and like hell was he going to ruin it for him with his somber thoughts. "I'm fine, Al." He pasted up a well-practiced grin, one that fooled even his brother for a while. "Hey, why don't you go ask Hawkeye to dance with you while you're here? You've never danced before, have you?"

"No, I haven't..." Al replied, thoughtfully. "U-Um, but won't Colonel Mustang get angry with me if I do?"

"He shouldn't," Ed stated, voice edgy. "You're only sixteen. She's, what, thirty?"

"Brother!" Al hissed, looking around to see if anyone had heard. "Don't say things like that! And she's not thirty; she's twenty eight!"

"Same difference," he waved off, sipping his drink. "Anyway, go before the nights over. You deserve it," he smiled, genuinely, but Al still looked hesitant.

"But, you'll be all alone here..."

"It's okay, I can watch you from right here just fine! So it won't really be as if I'm actually alone, you get it?"

"Well...okay, but I'll be back really soon, okay? So just wait here for me."

"Yes, sir." Ed flashed a grin, holding his glass up. Alphonse glanced at the liquid, seeing it already drained to the bottom, and Edward thought he probably assumed it was that apple cider stuff the adults were giving to the real minors. Too bad he'd grabbed the wrong cup and henceforth drunk down alcohol.

It didn't help that the waiters just kept serving it to him afterward.

He sunk into his chair after five minutes of watching Al get sucked into Winry's and Hawkeye's conversation. Alphonse probably forgot all about dancing, given just how excited and delighted he looked about something or the other.

He finished another cup and the last hour became a blur.

Mustang was talking to him now.

He was saying a load of crap about how he should be out there, dancing, making him look good so everyone could see just how well he trained his dogs, but Edward merely replied with a: "fuck off, Colonel, I'm actually having fun for once", to which the Colonel responded with an amused: "you have fun drinking all by yourself, Full Metal?"

"It's apple cider, dumbass; I'm under-aged." But that didn't mean that it would stop him from drinking and the Colonel knew this.

He'd always been a smart bastard.

"Then why do you reek of alcohol?"

"Why do _you_ reek of bullshit?"

"Full Metal, you're not suppose to be drinking; you're only seventeen. Until you're eighteen, you can get hammered all you want, but until then—"

Ed only shrugged in reply, taking a long drink to prove his point, and Mustang said something about that being his last glass for the night. But Ed didn't think so because who the hell did this guy think himself to be; telling him what he can and can't do? He was only important by rank not by person.

"Hey, is that Havoc making a move on Hawkeye?" Edward said, successfully distracting the Colonel, who had been frowning deeply because of how fast he was running through his current drink.

"Damn it! He'll piss her off again," Mustang cursed under his breath. "I really need this promotion if I'm ever going to get my 520 cenz back!"

Edward smirked. "Better get moving, Colonel, I can see her taking out her guns."

He watched him gracefully walk away and Edward thought this would be the perfect time for an escape.

So he grabbed two bottles of champagne from a confused waiter and, with one last glance at Alphonse and Winry, who were by Hawkeye watching Havoc's pitiful attempts at getting her to dance, he proceeded to sneak out of the ballroom that was packed full of important people like the rich and the well-connected.

He didn't like stuffy parties like this, as he had stated before, and he knew the only reason he had been invited was because of his accomplishment in bringing his younger brothers body back from the Gate. He had also been awarded a 'hero' due to his participation in bringing down Father, which had been covered up under the pretense of mutiny within the State Military.

But the most pressing matter was his brother, which many now knew had been encased in an empty suit of armor; for reasons they've yet to uncover but were adamant on digging up.

He supposed he should have thanked the Colonel for his quick thinking. He had managed to add a thick layer of lies to the truth and most of the media had stopped pestering him about his brothers sudden 'humanly appearance'.

But that didn't mean he still had to like him.

He walked outside the ballrooms side exit, in the yard that was chock full of flowers, trees, dew-slicked grass, and a few benches strategically placed here and there. He knew that sitting on a bench was asking to be caught so instead he sat down in a dark corner, behind the first bench he saw, where he was safely kept out of sight

The night was dark but dotted with stars and the moon was hidden behind a thick veil of fog. There was a cold wind that blew his bangs to and fro and he briefly contemplated chopping them off for good when he recalled his mother and how brightly she had smiled when she had noticed how long his hair had grown over the years in his childhood.

For her dead sake, he'd keep his hair long.

He poured himself another drink until eventually the cup lost all its meaning and he was chugging it directly from the bottle. Black thoughts rolled in his head with every swallow; rousing the buried guilt, digging up the shameful memories. He finished one bottle and was half-way through with the second when he heard his name being called.

He blearily touched his trouser pocket for his watch and flicked it open. He saw distorted numbers but he was smart enough to know that it was around midnight and the party was over. He hauled himself up, unsteady on his feet, and he heard a gasp come from around him. He rolled his neck, to straighten out some kinks, and drunk out of the bottle one last time.

He managed to stay straight as he looked at Winry, who was looking very pale and shocked. He didn't question why; he'd probably be shocked, too, if he saw himself. He was very aware that he had drunken himself silly tonight.

"E-Ed! Don't tell me you've been out here this whole time _drinking_?"

Edward shrugged, helplessly, and raised his bottle. "I told you I hated parties." He drained the bottle before she could snatch it away and dropped it next to the last one. He heard a sharp intake in breath and he assumed she found the first bottle.

Whoop-de-fucking-do.

"Let's get the fuck out of here already so I can get started with my hang over." He slurred somewhere in that sentence, he knew it, he just didn't know where, and he took a few steps before barreling sideways. The funny part was he didn't even notice he was falling until Winry was holding him up, making a little noise in the back of her throat that voiced her disgruntlement.

He always pissed her off, what was the difference this time? Well, maybe there was a difference: he was sick wasted and he didn't give a flying fuck why he got so damn drunk. He just felt like it, if it made sense.

He'd been having a crappy month: with the parties, the interviews, the reports and exams to renew his State Alchemist certification. Not to mention discovering that, with a brother that was half-starved and weak, he had to care for him on a daily basis, which he didn't truly mind as he adored his little brother, but henceforth needed to stay leashed to the goddamn military for Truth-knew-how-long.

And war.

If there was a god out there, he sure hated his creations.

Edward had only found out a few days ago that he was to be drafted for the war taking place out by Briggs because their own soldiers were numbered due to the coup de teat they had staged just little over a year ago; the whole Promised Day fiasco that had, thankfully, come to a close but had its own sets of repercussions. The numbered soldiers being one of them.

If he had any say, he'd tell you he deserved those drinks.

"Colonel Mustang is going to be so angry with you when he finds out, Ed!" Winry snapped, and he only thought that he needed to hit the sack soon to regain his head. "Al has been looking for you, too, and he'll be furious when he finds out what you've been doing!"

She hit a sore spot. Edward stopped and dropped his arm from around her shoulder. "Then I guess I just won't let him see me," he said, surprisingly sober, and he began to turn when he felt her hand grasp his own.

"Ed, stop it!" Winry shouted angrily. "You're coming with me! You're drunk and you can't be out by yourself!"

"I know I'm drunk," Edward stated loftily. "That was the whole point of drinking three fucking bottles, wasn't it?"

Her eyes started to glisten in what he assumed was pain and he felt that same winding guilt start to eat at him from the inside out. He cursed under his breath and, with a wobbly step forward, roughly brought her into his arms. He supposed he used too much force but she hadn't said a thing so he dropped it; instead focusing on the warmth from her body and how it felt nice to embrace someone you've liked for a long, long time.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled and he squeezed her tightly. She squeaked and he loosened his grip a little. He mentally noted that girls were delicate and squeezing them too hard was meant for other, nightly, activities: where it didn't matter if you bit so hard you drew blood or if you were crushing the life out of them since it felt too good. "I'm being an asshole, aren't I?"

"Ed, just come home with me," she said, wearily, and he busted out into laughter. "What's so funny?" she frowned and he only laughed harder.

"Come home with me..." he snickered. "That's rich, Win!"

Her cheeks burned red and he decided that he liked the color on her. That is, until her fist slammed down on his skull. It disorientated him so badly he didn't know where he was going until his vision cleared up enough that he saw that they were walking through the emptying ballroom already. His suit, he realized, still felt stiff and choking and he grabbed his tie and pulled it down, enough to let him breath a little easier.

So that had been what had been bothering him all those hours.

He realized his arm was also slung around her neck and, as they grew closer to the exit, he stopped and squeezed her neck a little. A complain was at the tip of her mouth, he knew it, but he had a better idea than going home like a bunch of good little kids.

He blamed the alcohol; it was making all sorts of things look like a good idea, like devouring her right then and there and then maybe going out for some food afterward.

He just _knew _that couldn't be right!

"Hey, Win, let's go home by ourselves," he stated and she gave him a look that clearly said 'not happening'. But he had his ways, as he whined: "C'mon! Live a little! We're going home just...not with them."

"Ed! You're insane! You've drunk yourself stupid!"

"Hey, that's kind of insulting. I remember you drinking yourself retarded one day," Edward told her, the words slipping out as if they were discussing the weather. He saw her cheeks colored red again and, since he liked the color, he decided to keep adding to this topic; he wanted to see her cheeks grow redder and redder. "And then you got this real smart idea of rubbing against me. Your really slow, you know, if you thought I didn't have to whack that off later!" Edward felt his ankle give when he tried to step forward and she steadied him, her face tomato red.

"I like red," he commented absently and she shot him the meanest glare she could muster.

He whined: "What's with the scary face? It makes you look weird," before her fist connected with his head and he teetered backward, knocking his head against the ballrooms tiles and promptly losing consciousness.

When he came to, she was hovering above him, looking very worried, and he groaned: "Woman, you're gonna' kill me one day."

"Oh...you're okay," she sighed and he snorted.

"Tch, what 'he hell," Ed slurred, touching his spinning head. "You've gotta' be kidding me, Winry; if a bunch of immortal bastards and one bearded geezer couldn't make me kick the bucket, what made you think this damn shiny floor would?"

Winry giggled and he rolled his eyes, propping himself up. Like he said before, the alcohol was talking, not him. That was why when he said: "You have a really nice laugh," he didn't really blame himself so much as he blamed those damn bottles he'd previously consumed.

But he guessed it was his fault, too: those bottles didn't drink themselves.

"W..what?"

"You've got a nice laugh," he repeated. "And smile." He gazed off into the ceiling, loosing himself for a moment, then adding: "A lot of things about you are nice." He didn't know where the hell he was going with this but something deep inside his chest was tugging; yanking and pulling and it was hurting him so he decided, as more words spilled into the open, that if spilling his guts to this woman would help ease the pain, it was alright.

"I think I love you but I can't be sure – you piss me off too much sometimes," he finished, after a few minutes of mindless rambling. Her face was his favorite color again and the corner of his lips twitch upward in response. "I like red," he repeated. "It looks way better on you. I think Ling is right – red looks retarded on me. Don't tell him I said that, though..."

"E...Ed, what...you..." she stammered. Her eyes were really wide, almost doe-like, and he was pretty sure it was because of his tactless confessions. He had always been tactless: his brother had told him, Hawkeye had told him, Mustang had told him, _she _had told him. But he knew, from personal experience, that it was hard to withhold your comments when they just really, really needed to be _voiced. _

He didn't like sugar-coating the truth.

He didn't like lying to people to make them feel better; safer; more anchored down to their wrongful beliefs.

So why would he keep quiet when some things just _needed_ to be said?

Cowardice, maybe.

"Do you really mean that?" she whispered, voice shaky.

"Yea'." He shut his eyes, as the lights overhead became too bright for him. His head was throbbing spectacularly; his body numb to the core. His automail leg was completely out of commission and his flesh leg was following.

"So you..you..." She choked up and Ed frowned. He didn't like lying for no reason: why would he lie about his feelings? Because he was a total coward when it came down to it? _Probably, _he thought seriously. That was probably the only reason he hadn't said it before.

And because before he had a bunch of maniacal monster-slash-human's after his hide.

"I love you," he repeated. The words weren't mouthfuls like he'd thought they would be. They came out easily, almost well-practiced, and he still impulsively added: "But you piss me off a lot," for some unfathomably reason; maybe his sober self kicking in to secure he didn't make a _total_ wussy out of himself.

"Edward..." she whispered, tone laden with an emotion that reminded him of the adoring tone his mother often used with him when he was young. He liked it. "You piss me off too...but I think I love you anyway."

Ed blinked slowly, words sinking into his consciousness. Rejection. That was what he had been lacking in that moment. The fear of rejection. In other circumstances, he would have been too afraid to ever voice such intimate thoughts with anyone – much less the object of his affection – but somehow, someway, the sweet poison thriving through his system had numbed his awareness enough to let him say it without any regrets.

At least this was _something_ he could do right.

Even if the bottles had helped him along the way.

And even if they just made the somber thoughts inside of him fester, because the gloom and gray hovering over him was beginning to look like it would eat him whole if he didn't get rid of it soon, at least it also helped carry his confession onward into the open.

But he was speaking too soon because said gloom and gray was leaking away and being replaced with the tidal waves of warmth and compassion.

"Oh." Was all he said to her confession. A simple 'oh'. Because what else could he say? That the dull ache in his chest had suddenly been cured? That he felt better than he had in all his years? That the month wasn't seeming too shitty anymore because of those three words?

Well, he would have probably acknowledged all of that if his hand hadn't slipped from under him when he caught sight of Mustang's laughing eyes and Al's sparkling ones. He cracked his skull against the ballroom floor again, causing him to back out instantaneously albeit with a small smile on his face this time around.

At least the next time he had awoken, bleary-eyed and sickly hung over, he had remembered every single word he had said.

He sometimes cursed his perfect memory.

But he supposed that seeing her glowing face, discovering just how soft her lips really were and just how passionate they could really be, was actually a blessing he owed to a goddamn bottle of alcohol and an honestly bad month.


	26. Pink

_**Color Theorem**_

_**Summary: **_For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!  
__**Authors Note: **This one shot is just something I decided to write after I got a haircut (the weirdest things inspire me) and I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you all for your lovely reviews._

_**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Alphonse would streak down HQ.

* * *

**026:_ Pink_**

* * *

"_He made wings out of wax so he could fly... but when he got too close to the Sun, to God, the wax melted and he crashed to the ground..."_

She put her feet on the ground, lifted her face up to stare at the clouds. They shrouded the sun with their misty veil and a cool wind caressed the curve of her neck, raking through her hair and sending it spiraling behind her in a swirl of golds and whites.

"Ed," she said, clearly. The clouds slowly parted, offering a single stream of sunlight that touched the land with its warmth. "Full Metal..." she murmured thoughtfully, still staring up at the sky, as another cloud blew in and once again covered up the intense radiance of the sun. "Hero of the People."

It was quite saddening, in a way, how famous he had become over the years. He was not that silly country-born boy any more – now he was the greatest alchemist seen; a prodigy; a genius; someone of superior caliber and therefore deserving recognition. The talk of the young boy had come and gone throughout the years, and she had listened intently to every detail she could get her hands on. It was almost frightening, how desperate she was to hear from the brothers.

But days came and went.

Months slowly began to fade with time.

She coiled up on the dirty ground, closed her eyes and placed a hand underneath her ear to pillow herself. The wind rose and sent a chill down her arms, making her curl in even tighter. The sun often spotlighted her, often left her, and soon it became too cold to stay out in the plains. The wind had picked up, sun slowly began to dim in intensity, and she briefly wondered how long she had stayed out in the plains; letting her mind sluggishly drift from thought to thought.

The unsightly comparison between the hero and Ed made her feel bothered as she had lain there. Somehow, it did not fit right with Ed's circumstances. Because Ed had managed to succeed where the hero failed: he might've crashed and burned to the ground but he picked himself up and tried again, persevering where others found it impossible. His mission might've been considered a fools mission, laughable at best, but that did not deter the alchemist. He continued, through thick and thin, stubbornly refusing every negative thought that might deter him from his quest. He had overcome so much hardship, had crossed through that river of blood and soil, to reach a paradise not for himself, but for his own little brother. It was a quest to correct a wrong they committed – a journey to recover Alphonse's lost body – and though they reached many dead-ends and flawed hopes, they never gave up.

Ed never gave up. That was his trademark – what made Ed, Ed.

He was stubborn and bullheaded, refusing to believe what others would have accepted and moved on. He dug deep, never stalling to think things through. He always barreled through everything, even if the consequences for his actions paid a heavy toll.

"You crashed to the ground," Winry whispered, lifting herself up from the dusty floor slowly. "But you picked yourself up, too."

"There you are," a voice came from behind her. She froze momentarily, fear sweeping through her for a second, before recognition calmed her. "Granny said you'd be out here somewhere... what're you doing here all alone, Winry?"

"Ed," she said, her lips curving into a bright smile. She turned and looked up, watching the boy – no, man – with glistening azure eyes. He stood a few steps behind her with his hands jammed into his pockets, a curious scowl marring his face, head tilted at an angle that allowed her access to the many peculiar planes of his face. "You're back!"

He grinned lopsidedly, lifting one hand out of his pocket to set on his waist. "Look! This time my automail isn't broken!" His grin turned triumphant, showing it off in her face. "Ha! Take that, you automail dork! I went five months without a single scratch on my arm! I think this calls for a celebration."

Winry felt her heart swell – dare she hope he came to _just _visit? – before her eyes settled on his leg. The pants which were torn and bloodied, signifying he had gotten out of a recent scuffle. She could see a deep gash in the mechanical limbs calf, stretching all the way to the lower thigh before it disappeared under the velvet material.

"Uh, about that," Ed gulped, taking a wobbly set back. "I can explain! Let me explain before you hit me with your wrench!"

Winry stood up and dusted herself, an annoyed glimmer in her eyes. "Save it. At least your arms in good condition this time. It's not very often your leg gets trashed."

"I don't trash my arm!" Ed argued.

Winry rolled her eyes. "And I don't like the smell of freshly made oil in the morning!"

"Isn't it the expression 'freshly made _coffee_'?"

"Nope. Oil."

"Ugh, you're such a freak!" Ed groaned, gripping his leg as he struggled to turn around. Winry placed a hand on his shoulder and subtly guided him around, sighing when he limped badly back and nearly lost his footing. If he kept this up, his leg would short out before they even reached her house.

"Did you come all the way out here like this?"

"I wouldn't have if you'd only been in your workshop like a good automail engineer," he grumbled, sending her a glare when she slapped the back of his head.

"Come on, you," she smiled wryly, slipping an arm around his upper torso to help support part of his weight. Against her own will, her cheeks began to heat up from the contact of having Ed's body pressed up against her side.

They walked back to the house in strained silence: Winry looking ahead quietly, stealing glances at the alchemist every few seconds while Edward stayed carefully passive, looking ahead and not letting his eyes stray elsewhere.

"Do you really think so?" he said suddenly, as the Rockbell household came into view.

"About what?" she asked nervously, picking up her pace slightly. He refused the pace and slowed down even more, letting his leg drag them down.

"I heard you," he said slowly. "You said I picked myself up. Do you really think so?"

Winry pressed her lips together, her cheeks growing a dark pink. So he _had_ heard her... "I do. I remember you telling me about the hero who built wings of wax and flew too close to the sun. I didn't like the comparison."

"What comparison?" he frowned, cocking a brow at her as she steadily stared at the house sitting on the hill, which came closer with every step.

"You can pretend you don't know what I'm talking about," she said softly, "but I know you compared yourself to that hero. You might have crashed to the ground but you picked yourself up and didn't let that keep you down." She smiled, the pink in her cheeks slowly ebbing. "You're definitely better than him. Or at least more stubborn."

She glanced at him, watched his lips pull upwards into a small smile.

"You have... way too much faith in me," he whispered, eyes downcast and troubled with past events.

"No, I have just enough," she corrected, adjusting his arm around her neck. "You should have more faith in yourself, Ed, because I'm positive that you'll get Al's body back in no time! I've never doubted you, not for one second. Never will, either, if you keep coming back to me in such a mess," she chuckled, "that's gotta' show that at least you're trying and getting something done! No matter how much it annoys me whenever you come back to me with a trashed 'mail!"

He didn't respond as they walked up the porch steps and into the house, where Winry was greeted warmly by her grandmother and Alphonse, who had been helping her granny peel some ripe peaches for baking.

As she left Ed sitting in her workshop and warned him not to stand up as she went to grab some tools, she just barely heard his hoarse whisper of gratitude.

"Thank you."

Winry paused at the threshold of the door but did not respond, opting instead to throwing a bright smile over her shoulder before continuing her trek down by the outside garage, where her toolbox was located.

Edward wasn't like the hero in that myth.

He was better than that.


	27. Turquoise

**Color Theorem**

**Summary:**For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!**  
**_**Authors Note: **_The Resembool Trio FTW! :D_

**Disclaimer_: _**If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Darius would be a real gorrilla.

* * *

**027**:_** Turquoise**_

* * *

"They're blue!"

"No! They're turquoise!"

"Blue!"

"Turquoise!"

An eight year old Winry Rockbell puffed her cheeks out, narrowing her _blue _eyes at Edward, who stubbornly crossed his arms and stuck his chin up in defiance.

"They're blue, Ed! You're stupid if you think they're turquoise!"

"No, _you're _the stupid one!" Ed shot back. "Your eyes are clearly turquoise! Even ask Al! AL! AL, AREN'T WINRY'S EYES TURQUOISE?"

Alphonse swung back and forth on the swing, a lollipop dangling from his mouth. He cautiously took the strawberry lollipop from his mouth and stopped rocking on the swing their father had made for them when they were toddlers. He glanced at Winry's eyes, her infuriated eyes, and judged the color based on the regular 'blue' she was saying and 'turquoise' Edward was stating.

"Um..."

"They're turquoise. C'mon, Al, just tell her so she could shut up already!"

"You shut up, Ed!"

"No, you shut up!"

"No, you first!"

"NO, _you_ first!"

"You first!"

"You first!"

Alphonse, all the while, calculating stared at her eyes. He could never be too sure of what color her eyes were. Sometimes, they would be a deep blue – like the rich waves of the ocean – and sometimes they would be a very pale blue – like the stretching clouds that intermingled with the blue of the sky – and, sometimes, very rarely, they became a tint that resembled gray at its lightest shade – like the stone slabs that made up their chimney – so Al was at a loss. He knew his brother knew more about colors than he did; he knew more about everything - he was an encyclopedia of knowledge that Alphonse couldn't wait to be taught.

But this seemed to be one subject even Edward couldn't be too sure of.

"Chameleon," Alphonse said suddenly, causing the shoving fight between the two older children to stop.

Edward's eye twitched and Winry blinked innocently.

"That's not even a color!" Ed shouted frustratingly. "What the hell do you mean by chameleon?"

"ED! Shut up or else I'm gonna' tell granny you're saying bad words!"

"You say them all the time!" Ed accused, causing Winry to gasp.

"I do not, you big fat liar!"

"Uh huh, you do too!"

Alphonse stuck his lollipop back into his mouth and swung away, the wind ruffling his chestnut hair softly. The wide open plain before him was a form of relief from the constant squabbles between Ed and Winry, who were, he guessed, in a fist fight judging by their grunts and screams and shuffling.

"You. Have. Turquoise. Eyes," Ed enunciated, pinning her down underneath him. Winry struggled and stopped when she couldn't throw him off. Edward might be small but he was still strong.

_'Cause he's fat, _Winry thought childishly. _He eats too much! _"I have blue eyes! Can't you see them? Look!" She peeled open her eye and shoved her face into his. Edward stared calculatingly into her pupil, coding every single shade of the generalized color blue he saw within her eye. His frown grew deeper and deeper when he noticed that it was not just turquoise but azure and blue and oceanic blue and sky blue and cobalt blue...and he could even see specks of green within the blue, causing a strange mesh of colors he found cool.

"Chameleon," Edward said finally, rolling off of her and laying on his back. Winry blinked away the dryness in her eye and got on her knees, crawling closer to Ed as he laid down on the grass in silent defeat.

"Chameleon?"

"Yes, it is not a color; more of an expression of colors," Edward answered, flicking his gold eyes to her. She saw a little irritation and defensiveness, but so long as she was right she didn't care. "You're eyes are composed of several shades of blue," she was about to cheer when he rose a finger, warning her not to count her blessings so early, "_and _green."

"Green?" Winry repeated, crestfallen. "I have green, too?"

"Yep, right in here," he pointed to his own eyes for emphasis. "I saw it. So, we were both wrong. It's a draw." He laid back down and closed his eyes as she frowned.

"Chameleon, huh? So, my eyes change color and stuff?"

"Yep." Ed smiled, cracking an eye open. "It's really cool!"

Her cheeks turned a little red and she stared at her dress, bottom lip stuck out in a stubborn pout. The compliment had definitely boosted her confidence but it still felt weird to be complimented by Ed. Alphonse, she could understand; he was really nice and sweet but Ed? It was like seeing metal break in half – totally bewildering yet fascinating.

"...Fine... but I still think they're blue."

"No, they're chameleon! Now, shut up! My head hurts!"

"That's cause you use it too much, you alchemy dork!"

"Its better than being stupid, you automail freak!"

"What'cha trying to say Ed?"

"That you're stupid, _duh_."

Alphonse just rocked away in his swing, lollipop half-way through, smiling blissfully at the familiar, homey, sounds of his family.


	28. Vermillion

**Color Theorem**

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!**  
**_**Authors Note: **_Have any of you noticed a pattern with my writing? I tend to start off with angst and end with happiness. I'm sort of in disbelief of this. I need to make up my mind XD_

_AHH! I'VE JUST FINISHED READING FMA CHAPTER 108! I'm..I'm crying over here, guys. Its just such an awesome manga, and its already OVER...I can't believe it, its just such a good final fight scene, too. She could have made it longer but I understand that she had a page-limit and all...I cant wait to see it on the anime - it'll be so awesome! Jeez, these tears really won't stop falling, I'm such a wuss..._

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Darius and Heinkel would be life-sized Earth Day decorations.

_**Dedication: **ikasamelindora, because of her warming comments regarding my collection! Thank you so much! You don't know how much your comments really mean to me! :)_

* * *

**028: _Vermillion_**

* * *

You think you're weak, because you always find your feet guiding you to this burnt pile of rubble. The watch which hangs off your trouser hook is a pathetic reminder of that which you can't let go – it is engraved inside the cap which has been alchemized shut because it reminds you too much of your weakness; your pathetic nature; your utter fail at letting go that which you have promised to burn and walk away from.

The house which holds so many memories yet holds so many tragedies is something you adore with just as much vigor you did your mother and its pathetic. She is dead and you couldn't let go. You think you just had to go poking your nose into things that weren't your concern.

You think you're a complete fool for thinking you would be able to do something which no one else has managed to do. You were ten and a hence child; they were adults and hence wise. You do not know what was going on through your small, ten-year-old, angst-driven, little head but you do know that it got you a prosthetic arm and leg and left you feeling even more empty than when you started.

You lower your eyes to a burnt board lying helplessly on the floor next to a pile which is indiscernible from the ash, the dew, the leaves, the grass.

It is decaying. It is decomposing and it will recompose into something else. It will serve for another purpose; it will continue this never-ending cycle of life. You know this because your teacher and every other alchemy book you have gotten your hands on has told you this; has drilled it into your small head and cramped it along with the bigger, harder, concepts which you have also memorized because you would do anything to bring _her_ back.

But you didn't bring her back so now this knowledge serves for bringing your brother back.

_You have to get this right at least._

It is a despairing thought, a despairing quest, but you still walk forward because you have your brother; because you have Winry and granny, even if you did not want to admit it at first. They keep you afloat: they are your life-support and you know, with a pathetic clench of your soft heart, that if you lost any of them again you wouldn't think twice on preforming that abhorrent alchemy again.

Or who knows, you think with a bitter smile, perhaps you will go insane and become another madman alchemist bent on perfecting an already perfect art. Because alchemy is perfect, you know this from the knowledge Truth has bestowed upon you, it is simply the wielder who is imperfect.

The torch which burned down this house, which stands before you in pieces and remnants, was something that also burned apart of _you_, a part of your essence, but you bravely swallowed the pain and pasted up a smile that offered a false sense of security; a false sense of elation that quickly crashed and burned to the ground the instant you lay down in that springy bed and stare at another unfamiliar ceiling.

Because you're weak and pathetic.

Because you can't let go.

Because you are a sinner and a liar and a good-for-nothing boy who is trying to scrape by life using what little resources he has.

You joined the military, the most hated of societies, and you gained your title as the Full Metal Alchemist.

You agreed to be collared and chained, to be ordered around, to be forced into things you do not want part in, to be destroyed with the cruelties of life and then rebuilt from scratch as a harder, stronger, man.

But you think that maybe the process started too early because now that you stand before this pile of rubble, the sky vermillion against an arc of brilliant orange, the pain inside your heart has numbed to the point where you can calmly observe the broken, ashed, burned, house with not so much as a bat of an eye.

This hurts you the most because before, when you were younger, and innocent, and naïve, and foolishly reckless, you used to cry yourself hoarse. But now not even a tear stings your eyes; not even a bile rises in your throat; not even that familiar constriction of your chest and diaphragm are there to warn you of the oncoming angst.

Now, there is nothing.

Now, you feel its empty; worn out and washed out.

Now, the death of your mother isn't so bad to think about.

Now, your mistake of the past permeates through everything else.

Now, whenever your brother walks into the room, your embodiment of sin, that makes you want to cry as if it were your mothers death all over again.

Now, when _her _deep blue eyes drown in your own, you feel your heart lurch and a pain start to blossom in your chest and spread to your stomach.

Now, when you step down those dusty steps, a cool breeze dancing around you, and you look back and wave at _her_, at _them, _that is the hardest part and your old and demolished house doesn't even fleet your mind because you have come to see that _this _house, this home, is now your own.

"Ed," she says, from behind you, and you breath in a stream of the chilling evening air. "Are you okay? You've been gone for a long time and granny told me to come find you..."

You know its not true. The old woman you now consider your surrogate grandmother would never ask anyone to come look for you because she understands your pain better than anyone else. Because, you remember, she has lost something dear to her too (_her husband, her son...) _and she knows how hard it is, how difficult it is, to move on and accept.

But you humor the girl standing behind you because it makes you feel a little more alive. The numbness starts to recede whenever she is around and even though you haven't figured out why it happens, you, for once, don't question it and simply let the warmth spread through your frozen body.

"I'm fine," you say, opening the eyes you thought were already open. The sight you come to see still doesn't shake you. "Let's go, it's getting cold out here.." You keep your voice even and empty as you shove your hands into your pockets and sink into the red coat slung over your shoulders.

She is there, beside you, peering into your own eyes with those expressive, ocean blue, ones and you feel that prickle in your chest again. The warmth starts to spread again, accompanied by the pain you still haven't deciphered, and its an addicting sensation, which is enough reason to not question it and simply let it go on its course.

You avert your gaze, the pain and warmth becoming one in a whole, consuming you, lightening the gloom which you've let settle all over your soul, and beckon her to follow you with your chin, as you crunch through the debris and onto the dirt road that would inevitably lead to _her _home, their home, the home you now consider your own.

"Al's looking for you to."

"Where'd he run off to?"

"Town. He thought you were in the local bookstore."

"They don't sell anything I like there."

"I know."

"So why'd you let him go?"

You see her shrug and notice, not for the first time, a snub of pink at the height of her cheeks, and you allow a small smile to grace your face, because the warmth is winning over the pain and you still do not have enough motivation to break down this strange emotion, as you both walk down that dirt path with the bloody red of the sky for your light.


	29. Teal

**Color Theorem**

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!_**  
Authors Note: **_Arakawa-sama left so many possibilities when she ended the manga. I just had to write this directly after I finished reading the final chapter. Truly a wonderfully written story, packed with action, humor, romance, truth, morals...I'm going to miss that manga, I'm glad I stumbled upon it at the book store :)_

_This is the second to last one-shot, people! The next one will be the final one for this color collection, not because I ran out of colors (dear lord, there are so many...), but because I planned this to be exactly 30 chapters long. I hope you all enjoyed this Ed/Winry collection! If you want to read another one, I'm going to post up my new special Ed/Winry collection directly after this one! So check it out if you have time! :D_

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, Falman and Garfiel would date.

_**Story Warning: SPOILER ALERT! **_If you** have not ****read chapter 108 **of the Fullmetal Alchemist manga then please **do not ****read** the following one-shot. It spoils a few _minor_ things that will, inevitably, spoil Brotherhood for you as it faithfully follows the manga!

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**029: _Teal_**

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She pressed the material against her nose, inhaling the fabric's scent. It smelled like new. In fact, the scent was mixed with a foreign ting that made her nose itch a little but she appreciated the gift nonetheless. It was a pretty shirt, a light teal Xing shirt with a triangle cut to reveal a supple amount of cleavage. It was nothing that resembled some of the usual attire she wore. It was a nice change.

The material was soft and silky, clearly expensive, and the sequences and trendy design was to die for, as she pressed it against her body to see if it fit. She eventually gave up and took off her current shirt, pulling the new one over and relishing the velvet that rubbed her skin. She turned to the mirror, admiring the shirt with a soft smile.

It was a perfect fit, accentuating her voluptuous figure.

Edward still had not returned from the west. He was still out there, trying to uncover the most he could from their culture. He had written a lot, called every other week, to tell her of all the advancements and the rich culture which shaped that part of the world. He seemed to be having the time of his life, making friends, learning new things, learning about all the wonders the west held out for him to take with both hands.

Alphonse was having a similar experience, only he called every other month. He had also been particularly keen on sucking out every answer he could in regards to women. Winry didn't have to ask to know that he was having girl problems. She wondered just who the girl was, and secretly hoped it was that girl, Mei Chang, as she had been such a charming and tough girl when they first met at Briggs; if a little prone to jealousy.

Winry touched the soft material again, her smile fading. Alphonse had sent this gift, this shirt, stating that he had chosen it out with Mei's help and they had estimated the size the best they could. He hoped it fit. She couldn't wait to tell him it did, as she traced her finger up her stomach and to the oriental collar at the top, which, strangely, made her seem younger.

Edward hadn't sent anything but she wasn't expecting much from him...

"_I'll give you half my life...so give me half of yours!"_

A smile split her face. Alchemists sure had strange ways of confessing. It had been at least a year and a half since that day and she had never stop thinking about it. If she had missed him before, this was much worse. The longing was nearly unbearable now, as his bright grin flashed behind the lids of her eyes every night before she fell into blissful sleep.

"Winry! I have to leave soon, do you need anything from Rush Valley?"

Winry snapped out of her daze and rushed downstairs. "You're leaving? Already?"

Pinako eyed the shirt, nodding in acceptance. "Is that what was in that package you got from Al yesterday?"

Winry smiled, pinching the material lightly. "Yep. Do you like it?"

"It suits you," Pinako commented. "So, anything? I need to do a few maintenance checks there and I need to know what you need so I could get them beforehand."

"Ah, nothing really..." Winry thought, as her grandmother picked up her suitcase and headed towards the door. "Maybe a new torque wrench – my old one's starting to break down on me."

Pinako nodded. "I'll try to get you one then. I'll be back in one week, you hear me? Take care while I'm away – I don't think there'll be so many customers this week so rest easy, you deserve it," her grandmother added. Winry sighed and nodded.

"Bye granny," Winry waved, as her grandmother stepped out of the house and hobbled over to the wagon waiting by the dirt path. One of the townsmen caught sight of them and waved, earning a small smile from Winry when she recognized it was Dean, an old man of sixty who often wondered the town on his wagon: giving lifts to people, relaxing under the oak trees scattered throughout Resembool, or checking his crops to see if they caught on yet.

She watched her granny hop on and the wagon creak forward, Dean whipping the reigns to prompt the horse ahead. There was a small sadness in her heart, as she watched her granny slowly fade in the distance. It felt like...Ed and Al leaving all over again. Winry dropped her gaze to the floorboards before setting her jaw and going back inside.

She had to be strong.

She had to trust Ed and Al would come back.

It was three hours later that anything interesting happened. She had been walking aimlessly up and down the stairs, trying to find something to do, and resisting the urge to go to the phone and dial Al or Ed. Mostly Ed, but she figured it'd be a little weird if she called him because she was feeling lonely.

She touched the teal shirt again, wondering if it was even worth wearing inside the house. It seemed too elegant to wear inside; it looked as if it belonged out in Central, where everyone always dressed in the latest flair.

She was contemplating changing when a knock rang from the front.

"Coming!" Winry called, and rushed over to the door. She opened it and, to her utter surprise, there stood Edward, holding a suitcase, and grinning very widely.

"Surprise!" He cheered, as she gaped.

"E-Ed?" She laughed, eyes glittering in the sunlight. "You're back! Welcome home!" She didn't suppress the urge to glomp him, as she threw herself on him. She didn't seem to notice the sudden flood of red on his face, nor the audible swallow as she tightened her grip. But she did notice the tightness in his own embrace and this only ratcheted the glee that was building up inside of her.

"I told you before to call me to make an appointment if you were coming over!" She snapped. "What did you break this time?" She critically inspected his person and Ed inched away, holding his hands up in peace.

"Nothing's broken! Woman, can't I come visit for the hell of it?"

"Hmm..." Winry squinted at him. "Of course you can...it's just..not like you."

He ignored the jab and said: "So, where's granny?

"She left a couple of hours ago, actually," Winry informed, closing the door when he stepped inside. He placed his luggage by the couch, stretching out his cramped muscles like a cat. "She won't be back for a week...but knowing her, it'll take two," Winry mumbled, knowing just how addicting Rush Valley could be. If she'd have gone, she wouldn't be back for two _months_.

She frowned, when she saw his troubled face. "Something wrong?"

"That shirt," Ed said, she noticed his cheeks were getting redder. "It's from Xing, isn't it?"

"Oh, this?" Winry touched the teal fabric, wondering briefly why she saw him gulp. "Yeah, Alphonse's girlfriend picked it out for me."

"His _what?" _Ed screamed, eyes going wide.

"Girlfriend," Winry repeated, curious to the gaping expression on his face. "At least, I think it was his girlfriend. It was Mei, he better have asked her out," Winry scowled suddenly. "He kept asking me all these questions about women – I guess he wanted to see if he had a chance with her, which he does, completely, because Mei was smitten with him when he was still in the armor so I can only guess it's worse now that he has his body back."

"_H-her?_ That beansprout girl? Why the hell would he want to go out with that pipsqueak!" Ed growled, and Winry burst out laughing.

"Did you just hear what you said? You called her a pipsqueak! As if you should be talking, _shrimp!_" Winry laughed harder when he feverishly denied ever being short. Ever since he had gotten those extra inches on himself, he'd been overwriting those years everyone picked on him for his height.

"Anyway, what type of questions did he ask you?" he asked, casually, but Winry thought she heard a bump of nervousness in his words.

"Oh, he got really detailed," she sighed with a roll of her eyes. "He asked me if women liked being taken out for dinner and why and their estimated thoughts when they were asked out to do such. He also asked me how to tell if a girl likes you or not."

"How'd you answer all those?"

"Well," Winry began, clicking her tongue. "It's not very hard to tell if a girl likes a boy. Really, its just the latter person over analyzing everything and mixing up signals and whatnot. A girl would usually go out of her way to speak to someone she likes. I guess if you're scientific, like Al, that would mean smiling a lot," Winry smiled at Ed, who's face tinged pink. "And the pupil tends to dilate when something of desire appears before us, it's the same with males," she added, and saw Ed step closer to her. "And... I believe body language also has something to do with it."

He was getting too close. Winry felt her heart start to pound.

"Body language?"

"Y-yeah, like the lower portion of your body always faces them; tips of the feet, knees touching their own. Always looking at them is a sign, too. Blushing is also a major sign, obviously." Winry cleared her throat, unable to push down the heat on her cheeks when Ed was directly in front of her, hands in pockets, staring at her eyes for some reason... "Oh! Clumsines! I think a few selected chemicals in your head go awry and cause people to be clumsy when they're really attracted to a person!"

"Huh. And you told all this to Al?"

"There was more but he hung up before I could tell him," Winry sighed. "I think he was making a quick call or something. I'd like to think he was on a date and he needed all this info, quick, or else I'll be severely disappointed."

"Why?" Ed grumbled. "It's only the beansprout..."

"I happen to like _Mei_, thank you very much," Winry huffed. "She's a nice girl. And she's tough. An Elric needs someone tough in their lives," she smiled, walking to the kitchen with Ed hot on her heels.

"Who are you to make such a huge statement?" Ed scowled. He didn't need someone tough to order him around! Much less a woman! Right? "I don't need—"

She gave him a deadpanned look.

Ed paused. "Okay, so maybe you're right, your point?"

"I hope Al asked Mei out!" She grinned, picking up a mug and pouring herself some water from the sink.

"Geez, I knew she was a little too attached to Al but I didn't think she liked him like that..." Ed mumbled, a little bothered that his little brother was getting along a little _too _fine on his own. "Are girls all like her?"

"No, everyone's different," Winry said, drinking some water. "Mei's just very affectionate. I think it would be swell if Al ever asked her out – he needs someone like that; being in a suit of armor for most of your childhood and adolescence must really pound your self-esteem down to the ground."

Edward shifted to the side a little, his eyes lingering on the tempting triangle of exposed skin, and she felt her hand suddenly lose contact with her body as the cup dropped from her hand and into the sink. Her heart was pounding very hard now, as she felt a burst of excitement shoot through her.

The excitment quickly dissolved when the cup crashed with the ceramic and cracked. "Oh, no, granny's going to kill me when she comes back..." she muttered in embarrassment, picking out a few pieces of the sink and trying to ignore Ed's stare.

She heard a snicker beside her and she shot Ed a glare. "What are you laughing at? It better not be me, you jerk!"

He stifled a few chuckles. "Not really, I've just never seen you so _clumsy_..."

She scowled. "It happens to everyone once in a while." She walked over to the trashcan and dumped in the pieces. "What's got you so...happy?" She eyed his smug smile. She didn't like what was going on through that head of his. "Something you're not telling me?"

"Er, its nothing," Ed dropped his gaze, thoughtful, then said: "Hey, Winry, are you doing anything tomorrow?"

She could have sworn her heart burst. He wasn't... was he?

"Tomorrow?" She blinked, going through her schedule in her head. Which was basically empty. "Not really. Granny pretty much took all the clients for this week last week, so unless there's an emergency case, I'm free all day." She sighed at what this meant. "It's going to be so boring...but at least you're here, it'll be a little interesting."

He smirked. "Great. We're going out somewhere tomorrow."

Her cheeks flushed scarlet at his words. "G-going out? Where to?"

Ed suddenly frowned. "I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

Winry laughed, as his face flushed red.

"Wh-what's so funny?"

"We'll go to town and see what's there," she smiled kindly. "But right now I have to change. Or else I'll ruin this shirt with oil..."

"Oil?" Ed echoed in puzzlement. "You mean you're going to work on automail _again_?"

"I'm going to work on _your _automail," Winry smiled dangerously, as he laughed nervously. "You can try to hide it with your coat, but I noticed your limp. What did you _really _break this time, bone head?"

"Nothing big...just lost the entire cover plate and some screws..."

"YOU WHAT?" Winry shrieked, appalled. "That cover plate took me _hours _to get right and so many cenz to make! It was built with a special alloy mix and fortified with carbon! And you _LOST IT?_"

"Ah ha ha, no hard feelings right? At least I'm back safe and sound. That's all that matters, right?...Winry? W-wait, where did you get that wrench from? Win? Winry? Best friend? UWAAAH! NO—!"

Winry dusted her hands a few minutes later, dragging a groaning Edward Elric across the floor by his collar and to the workshop, where she heaved him up with one mighty pull and slammed him upon the table, starting on his leg as he held his head in pain.

He better take her somewhere good tomorrow, that was all she was hoping for as she knocked him out cold when she saw just how bad he had banged up his leg.


	30. Holi

**Color Theorem**

**Summary: **For someone who managed to become a State Alchemist at the age of 12, Ed sure was dense. _A color collection for Fullmetal Alchemists golden couple, Ed and Winry!_**  
Authors Note: **_I'd like to safely note that this color prompt is actually a festival of colors celebrated in India. I know its not a color but I wanted to finish this off with a bang so I decided to use that instead of the color I had in mind. I think it fits, its certainly a celebration because now Ed and Winry are CANON!_

_Celebrate indeed._

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Fullmetal Alchemist, it wouldn't have ended! -cries-

_**Story Warnings: **_Okay, if **you haven't read chapter 108 of Fullmetal Alchemist, don't read the following** one-shot _**unless you want to get seriously spoiled**._ But I doubt it'll matter, everyone probably knows how it ended...

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**030: _Holi_**

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"Oh, no—Alphonse! Please get Maes before he wonders outside!" Winry fretted, holding her newborn baby in her arms. She struggled to calm him as he bawled. "Shh, it's okay Andrew, please don't cry..." She bounced him in her arms, patting his back and wincing when the baby only cried harder. "Ed! Ed, get over here!"

"Wha'?" He called, poking his head around the corner; a piece of bread in his mouth.

"Come over here and help me out with your son!" She shouted, groaning when Andrew cried harder at her tone. "I'm not yelling at you, my little angle, it's your idiot father who's annoying me..." Winry cooed, sighing in relief when he calmed down just a little bit.

"Winry, I've got Mae—whoa!" Al laughed when Maes flung himself over his shoulder, laughing as his uncle ruffled his hair. He stood up from his kneeling position, Maes thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Let me assist you, Winry," Mei offered, walking toward her and making funny faces at the newborn. The baby's cries slowly became hiccups of laughs when he noticed the ridiculous faces. Edward was walking toward her as well, still munching on a piece of bread.

"Here, let me handle him," Ed took the baby from Winry, who rubbed her sore arms in response. "Come on, why are you crying? Elric's don't cry!" Ed smiled, holding the child above his head. The baby blinked back at him owlishly, as Ed grinned broadly and bounced him in the air. Eventually, Andrew gurgled a giggle, causing Ed to shoot a grin of triumph at Winry, who merely rolled her eyes in response.

"Give him here before you drop him," Winry said, apprensive since her baby was being tossed up and down in the air. She really didn't trust Ed with a baby yet...

"Drop him? He's my kid, I won't drop him!" Ed argued, holding the baby to his chest protectively. "Besides, he wants to stay with me." Ed glanced down at Andrew, who looked a little sleepy. "You want to stay with daddy, right, Andrew?"

He only yawned in response.

Winry chuckled heartily at Ed's scowl.

"He says yes," Ed mumbled, rubbing his little boys back.

"DADDY! DADDYYY!" Maes screamed, reaching his arms for Ed when he caught sight of him. Edward looked a little torn. He eventually gave up Andrew to Winry with a small pout, who held him carefully as the small child looked around in curiosity; sleepiness gone with the sudden ruckus.

"They look so alike," Mei laughed, standing beside Alphonse, who grinned proudly.

"He'll grow up to be exactly like his father," Al nodded. "He's a splitting image of him as it is."

Maes and Edward both looked at him, bearing the exact same expression of confusion at their words that caused Mei and Al to burst into gleeful giggles. Mei rested against Al, who wrapped an arm around her waist.

Winry stuck a pacifier into Andrew's mouth when he looked like he was about to cry again.

When she wasn't looking, Andrew took it out and dropped it to the ground.

"Oh, Alphonse!" Mei suddenly spoke up. "We both should go visit my lord Ling for the summer! He would to love to see the new addition to the Elric family—"

Al released her and pointed toward Pinako, who stood holding a camera in her wrinkly hands. The photographer was rummaging through his bag but Pinako wasted no time in grabbing his camera and aiming it at them. They were suppose to take a family picture but the photographer had come early and they had yet to change into more appropiate clothes.

Pinako smirked, as Ed and Winry also caught sight of the camera.

"Granny, what are you doing?" Winry blinked.

Ed scrambled beside her, whispering: "Smile, Win."

"Everyone look here!" Pinako took the picture.

Ed held his eldest up for all to see, grinning so badly that if he grinned anymore his face would split in half. Winry smiled in pleasant surprise, her hand on Andrew's back as the little boy looked to the camera curiously. Al was looking straight at the camera, hands at his hips, happiness written on his face.

The shot revealed Mei with her hand out to animate her idea, an equally happy smile on her face.

"We should take it again," Mei whined, her cheeks pink as Al gazed at the picture a few hours later. "I wasn't ready and—"

"It's perfect," Al said softly, looking up with a warm smile. Mei parted her lips to say something but the words caught in her throat. She instead offered a brilliant smile, lunging at him and hooking her arm around his neck. Al laughed, catching her and burying his face into her hair.

"I'll take that now!" Ed plucked the picture from his hands.

He showed it to Winry, who peered at it with sparkling eyes. "Haha, look at us...a real family." She looked up at Ed, who had Maes sitting on his shoulders. The little boy laughed cheerfully, fisting his fathers hair and pulling it out with vigor. She saw Ed wince but he did nothing to stop the boy from having his fun.

"Yeah, a real family..." Ed murmured, his eyes going soft. He patted Andrew on the head, then softly cupped Winry's cheek. "We're finally a family..."

Winry only nodded, her face lighting up as his lips descended upon hers.


End file.
